


We Fools Who Love, Part 2

by Could_it_be_magic



Series: We Fools Who Love [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Love Triangles, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Red Room (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 93,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Could_it_be_magic/pseuds/Could_it_be_magic
Summary: Against all odds, Natasha has found love and happiness. But she's still running from her past. And her past is about to catch up with her in a big way.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Original Female Character
Series: We Fools Who Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113254
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> So the first part of We Fools Who Love was threatening to get very long, so I've decided to turn it into a series. Thank you everyone who has read and enjoyed Natasha's story so far. If you haven't read We Fools Who Love, Part 1 I suggest you start there or you'll be very confused!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new Avenger is born.

The facility staff no longer whispered at my presence; they had grown used to me turning up in unexpected places.

I stood, hidden in the shadows, as the sound of gunshots echoed off the walls.

Arms crossed, I stood in a dark office behind the facility’s subterranean shooting gallery, observing Melanie and Wanda’s lesson through the bulletproof glass.

“Exhale when you pull the trigger,” Maria instructed, standing like a sergeant major behind them as they took aim at targets across the room. “Don’t hold your breath.”

I nodded to myself absently in approval; that was what I would have said, had I been the one supervising this activity.

Melanie and I had had our first major row over my insistence that she learn to shoot. She had been outraged, reacting to the idea of picking up a gun with the same revulsion another woman might have expressed at being expected to handle a tarantula or a cockroach. I had tried to reason with her, reminding her of the incident with Clint’s bow. It was no good being able to turn an enemy weapon back on them if she didn’t know how to use it. Plus, pulling the trigger of a gun took considerably less energy than using her powers. I wasn’t suggesting that she become an indiscriminate marksman, only that she develop enough skill with a weapon to give her an edge if her powers failed her. She absolutely refused to see reason, I remained adamant, neither of us would back down, and the conversation disintegrated into a shouting match as she lost her temper and my own anger roused in response. Wanda and Rhodes, who happened to be in the kitchen with us at the time, hurriedly made themselves scarce, and everyone had given the common area a wide birth as we both got louder and louder, as though we thought we could convince each other by sheer volume as well as logic. Finally I had ended the dispute by telling her she was part of my team now, and if she didn’t want to obey orders, she could get out.

“Fine!” she had yelled, her face flushed with rage, and in a flash of gold she was gone.

The residence wing had been conspicuously deserted as I stalked back to our quarters and slammed the door hard enough to make the windows rattle. I had paced furiously back and forth, cursing long and fluently in every language I knew, until my anger had abruptly drained away and, to my everlasting mortification, I had collapsed in a sobbing heap on the bed. Fury was replaced by anguish. I had never meant to drive her away. I was desolate at her absence, and more than a little fearful. What if Goravitch found her? What if she never came back?

She was gone for several hours, by which time I had fretted myself into a pitiful state, and finally been reduced to hugging a pillow, rocking disconsolately.

I had raised bleary eyes as the faint pop and a rush of displaced air announced her return. Her hand gently touched my shoulder. I had wordlessly pulled her into my arms, clinging to her tightly, so relieved that she was back, and safe, that all else was forgotten.

We had spent an emotional evening making up. When I asked her where she had been, she had looked sheepish and told me she had fled to an old, deserted quarry in the Scottish Highlands where she used to go climbing as a teenager. She had spent a few hours soloing routes on the cliffs while her temper cooled. She said climbing had always been something that helped her to feel calm, gave her space to think. Halfway up some crevice she had reconciled herself to the idea that if it was so important to me, maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to be able to handle a weapon, provided she wasn’t expected to use it as anything other than a last resort. I was happy to agree to that.

However, I changed my mind about teaching her myself and asked Maria to take over that side of her training, not wanting to put any further strain on our still-very-new relationship. Maria had rolled her eyes, not deceived in the slightest by my lame excuse that I didn’t have the time, but refrained from teasing me about it. I decided Wanda should learn as well, since the same situation could easily apply to her. Though Wanda’s powers and Melanie’s worked very differently, the end result was similar enough that I felt she could benefit from the experience. She had been almost as unhappy about it as Melanie, but had agreed, and her involvement at least helped Melanie feel better about the whole business. At least she knew she wasn’t the only one on the team who was a complete tyro when it came to weaponry.

Not wanting either of them to feel pressured, I left them to Maria’s undoubted expertise, and when I checked in on them, as I was doing now, I lurked quietly in the shadowy office so that they couldn’t sense me watching.

In the two months since we had escaped the Red Room, there had been no hint of reprisal, and the continued silence on that front was distinctly worrying. There had been no report on Goravitch, either living or dead, but I felt in my gut that he had survived the destruction of his lair. I was certain he had slithered back into the shadows like the snake he was, and eventually he would strike once more. With no clear idea what form the next threat might take, I threw myself into training, ruthlessly evaluating our weaknesses and seeking to eliminate them, pushing my team to the point where there might have been rebellion had they not known that I was equally hard on myself. I often caught Melanie regarding me with concern, though she never pressed me. She knew I would talk when I was ready, and that until then, I needed to deal with my demons in my own way. The memory of those icy, ruthless eyes haunted my dreams, and my nights were restless, plagued with nightmares that I could not remember when I awoke, but left me shivering with cold sweat.

If it had only been me I knew he was after, I could have dealt with that. I was no stranger to having a price on my head; knowing someone was out there whose fondest wish was to chain me to a wall and torture me endlessly was extremely disturbing, no question, but not something to lose sleep over. Goravitch’s personal obsession with me, or even the prospect of discovering what sick things he had done to me the first time around, weren’t what frightened me. It was Melanie I feared for.

It bothered me deeply that we had no idea why he had spent so long lying in wait for her, or what the KGB had planned to do with her. I, more than anyone, was fully aware of the hidden menace that organisation presented. They had been quiet for well over a decade, but that didn’t mean they were inactive. What with all the alien attacks and global catastrophes, their activities had gone unnoticed, but now I knew with certainty; the KGB were a threat that could not be ignored. They might not be able to attack openly on US soil, but direct attacks had never been their style. They excelled in espionage and murder, the agent hidden in plain sight, the assassin in the shadows. And that was the root of my obsessive drive for battle-readiness; fear that we would not see the attack coming until it was too late; fear that I would once again face the cataclysmal grief I had experienced after Thanos, and that this time there would be no magic solution that could make everything right.

The thought of losing my friends again was _almost_ bearable. I had been through that grief, and terrible as it was, I knew I could survive. But if I lost Melanie?

The thought of anything happening to Melanie filled me with overwhelming terror.

But I also knew that she had been right in what she had told me, that first night I had awakened after her rescue. Love was not a weakness. Paradoxical though it seemed, and contradictory to everything I had ever been conditioned to believe, love was in fact the very core of my strength. For the love of my best friend, I had become an Avenger, facing monsters and magic and things I had never been trained for, to save him. Love for my friends had kept me at their side to fight hopeless battles against impossible odds, and love had given me the strength to sacrifice myself on Vormir. So, though there was a part of me that still loudly insisted I should distance myself from possible sources of pain, that Melanie would be safer and better off without me, I ignored the voice. I would not allow fear of loss to cut me off from the happiness I had found.

My instructors in the Red Room had been wrong. I did have a place in the world. My place was here.

Another series of gunshots interrupted my thoughts. I squinted at the targets, and was pleased to see the holes in both were well grouped. Not in the centre, not yet, but the close grouping at least showed their aim was steadying. They were both making good progress, considering how reluctant they had been to start.

There was a soft footstep behind me.

“I wondered when you were going to show up,” I said quietly without turning.

Obedient to my wishes, the team had kept my return a closely guarded secret. I had contacted Pepper and ensured she understood my need for silence. After several weeks closeted in the lab with Bruce and Melanie, Dr Cho had departed back to South Korea with a mass of new data for her cellular regeneration research, on the understanding that my own and Melanie’s parts in it were to be kept strictly classified.

Maria had called a general meeting of all the support staff at the facility to introduce them to their new, albeit unofficial, commander, and I had been surprised and quite moved by the genuine roar of delight that had erupted from the crowd at my appearance. All of them listened respectfully as I outlined the need for their cooperation in keeping my existence from the rest of the world. Scanning the small sea of beaming faces, I had seen nothing but pride that I had trusted them with my secret, and a reverence that ranged from deep respect to total adoration. Slightly mystified as to what I had done to deserve such dedication, I was nonetheless touched. So far their loyalty, and the instincts of Maria Hill, had not been lacking. None but my friends ever referred to me by name anymore; to the rest of the population I was simply ‘the Commander’. If they spoke of me at all, anyone not in the know would assume they were talking about Maria. The majority of the world remained blissfully ignorant of my presence in one of the most eagerly watched facilities on the globe. Thankfully the compound was large enough, and our security tight enough, that I could still go outside without risking being snapped by paparazzi. The Stark cooperation owned the land around the facility for several miles, giving me access to acres upon acres of blissfully deserted woods where I could run undisturbed, and the large lake where I could swim. It wasn’t quite the same as moving through crystal clear water under a tropical sky, but I retained a distinct fondness for the activity nonetheless.

Despite all my precautions however, it didn’t surprise me in the slightest that Nick Fury had learned of my existence. Maria would have told him, of course. She was the only person on the planet who seemed to be consistently able to contact him, despite his regular vanishing acts. Even I didn’t know how she managed it, she never left any trace of her communications. If they told me they had a telepathic connection, I don’t think I would have batted an eyelid. Her disclosure, going against my orders, didn’t concern me unduly. Even without his most devoted follower as my deputy, I suspected he would have found out anyway. Fury was a force of nature, I always thought, with a knack for penetrating secrets that even I regarded with awe. I would have been disappointed in him had he not turned up in full possession of all the facts.

I smiled now as he emerged from the shadows and moved to my side. Though I had not seen him for over six years, since he had been among the vanished, his presence was as familiar to me as my own shadow.

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury said. He was actually smiling, a rare sight. “I am _extraordinarily_ pleased to see you alive and well.”

“Likewise, sir,” I told the man who had given me my chance to live a better life, so many years ago. My director, mentor and friend. My homecoming felt complete now that he was here.

He made a dismissive gesture. “You don’t call me sir anymore Natasha. You’re the boss now.”

I felt slightly apprehensive that he might disapprove of the team’s choice to place the leadership role upon my shoulders, disregarding his own wishes. He dispelled that fear immediately, his one good eye conveying approval. “You did good work while I was gone. I am glad you are back to take up the reigns again now. You would always have been my first choice. The team needs someone like you in charge. They’re in good hands.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully. His blessing meant a great deal.

He surveyed the scene in the next room. “This your newest recruit?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling another touch of apprehension. Of course he would know all about her…

“There’s not a lot of room in this business for love,” he said gravely. “I know I don’t need to tell you to be careful. But I am glad you have finally found something to fight for besides redemption.”

I looked down with an embarrassed smile.

Through the glass, Wanda and Melanie shot another round of bullets into the targets. This time a couple grazed the central ring.

“They look like they’re coming along well,” Fury commented. “Although I’m not surprised, with Hill on the case. One of the best marksmen I ever saw, they’re in good hands. I am surprised you’ve got those two down here shooting bullets though. We all know Maximoff doesn’t need a weapon to be deadly. And from what I hear, your girlfriend doesn’t either.”

I shook my head. “Their powers don’t make them indestructible. And they can be neutralised. I need to know that if something stops them from being able to do their thing, they have other options.”

Fury nodded. “Sound logic.”

I closed my eyes wearily. I wasn’t sure logic had anything to do with my actions lately.

“So, does your new recruit have a name yet?” he said sardonically.

I smiled. “Not so far.”

Sam and Rhodes had come up with a few ideas for a superhero tag for Melanie, all of which she had dismissed with blistering scorn. She had trouble seeing herself as hero. Though she no longer resisted the programme of training I was pushing her through, I knew, deep down, that she was doing it to please me, not because she thought she could actually be like the others. At heart she still thought of herself as an academic, a researcher, a scientist. When she wasn’t training, she was usually in the lab with Bruce, the two of them absorbed in one experiment or another, covering white boards in equations, their conversation so full of scientific jargon they may as well have been speaking Klingon. It was almost cute, the two of them in their white lab coats, as excited as children on Christmas morning as they poured over a microscope, exclaiming over something too small to see.

“Ah well, give it time. She hasn’t hit the headlines yet. I’m sure once the public see her in action they’ll slap a suitably tacky brand name on her.”

“No doubt. Although I’m hoping that won’t be anytime soon. I could really use a bit of time without a crisis,” I said ruefully.

“We all want that. Trouble is, we rarely get what we want.”

I sighed. “What do you know?”

“Not much, I’m afraid to say. There are a few rumblings in the underground, nothing specific. Some very disagreeable people seem very unhappy with you.”

“Nothing new there then,” I muttered.

“Actually it is.” His one eye looked at me in concern. “You were always about the mission, Natasha. You’ve taken out more threats than I can count, saved the world half a dozen times, hell, saved half the known universe, but this time…. This seems more personal.”

I swallowed hard.

“You want to tell me about this guy, Goravitch?”

“What have you heard?”

“That he’s a deeply unpleasant person,” Fury said, with his usual knack for chronic understatement.

“So he survived,” I muttered, my heart sinking.

“Unfortunately, it would appear so. We picked up a Russian agent yesterday.” He scowled. “Idiot managed to poison himself, but not before we got the name of the man he was reporting to.”

I grimaced. “So he’s not just alive, but ranks high enough to order agents around. And he wants us to know it.”

Fury raised an eyebrow.

“Trust me,” I said sourly. “No KGB agent would let slip a detail like that by accident, _before_ killing themselves. He was ordered to drop that little gambit. Goravitch wants us to know he’s alive, and that he has the power to come after us.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “How did you find this agent?”

“He happened to be someone we’d had our eye on for some time. He was posing as an administrator in the Home Office. I had him under observation, hoping he would reveal more of his network, but last week he suddenly went AWOL. We followed his trail, and picked him up in a stolen SUV about twenty miles from here.”

I rolled my eyes. “Great. So now we’re a bigger priority than spying on the Home Office?”

“Looks like it.” He shrugged. “It was a good call, keeping your return a secret. Goravitch clearly suspects you are here, but he doesn’t know for sure.”

“So was the agent supposed to find us, kill us, or what?” I asked with a sigh.

Fury pulled a face. “We don’t know, but I suspect it may have been ‘or what’. This guy has a serious thing about you by all reports. And he spent the last year lying in wait for your girl there, so I doubt he’s just going to forget about her.”

I gritted my teeth. “Do you have any idea what the KGB are up to?”

Fury sighed. “Other than they’re obviously up to _something_ , afraid not. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”

“Great,” I said sourly. “No offence, but I was really hoping when you showed up you might have more than that.”

Fury shrugged. “I’m keeping my ear to the ground. I didn’t come here to fill in the blanks. I came to make sure you are okay.” His one eye pierced me. “Are you okay, Natasha? Really?”

I gave a long sigh. I couldn’t fool Fury.

“No,” I admitted. “Not really.” I gazed through the window at the blonde figure who frowned so determinedly at the targets, trying to get her shots closer to the centre. Doing her best to master a skill she hated, because I asked her to. “But I will be.”

*****

“Anything new today?” I asked, accepting a mug of coffee from an assistant and warming my hands around it. I thanked the young man and smiled to myself as he went beetroot red, nearly tripping over his own feet on his way back to his station. Even after five months of being in command, I was still somewhat bemused by the reverence some of the staff portrayed towards me. Maria had told me, sniggering at my bewilderment, that the simple act of getting me a cup of coffee had become a much-coveted privilege, fiercely fought over behind the scenes.

“No major catastrophes so far,” Maria reported in clipped military tones. “There’s been an oil spill in Malaysia, and we have a request from the Chicago Police Department for assistance dealing with some recent criminal activity.”

I supressed another smile as she fell silent, waiting expectantly. Maria really could not be happier that she was back where she felt most comfortable, in the co-pilot’s seat. She might hate being the one calling the shots, but as a second she was the best in the business, an unshakable rock to lean on. I didn’t even want to think about the mess I would have been making of this without her. The Avengers Initiative I had led during the five years of the Decimation had been a barely-official affair; a few independent and mostly absent operatives, some of whom weren’t even based on this planet. This new incarnation, with its plethora of support staff, was more like a small army. It was like going abruptly from commanding a strike team to a hellicarrier. Thankfully, I only had to give the orders, leaving it to Maria to navigate the minefield of bureaucracy to see that they were carried out.

I turned my mind firmly to the business at hand. “Okay. Does Pepper want to sort out the spill?”

“Actually she’s already on it,” Maria said. “She’s stuck in a board meeting, but she despatched the iron legion to help with the clean-up. They should be able to limit the damage to as small an area as possible. They already got the leak in the tanker repaired that caused it.”

“Nice to see she’s on the ball.”

“Actually Morgan flagged it up. She’s been playing in her dad’s garage again. Apparently she was ‘improving’ a global satellite scanner, and noticed a dark spot just off Bora Bora.”

I shook my head. That was one precocious five-year-old. Not that we should be surprised by that, considering who her father was, but Pepper clearly had her hands full.

“What’s the deal in Chicago?”

Maria checked her readout. “An armed gang have hit two major banks in the past forty-eight hours. Terrified a bunch of civilians, wounded one cashier. Made it away with over three million dollars in total.”

I scowled in irritation. “Oh for god’s sake. Three million is a lot, but still, one casualty and some missing cash is hardly a global security issue.” I sighed. “Tell them we’ll monitor the situation, but unless the gang steal a nuclear warhead or threaten to start massacring civilians, they can find their own bank robbers.” I cast her a probing glance. Maria was fully aware of the limits of my patience when it came to requests like this. Every police force in the world seemed hell-bent on escalating every possible crime that might tempt us to send some superhero backup, like it was some kind of competition. Maria had several assistants whose sole task was to filter out all the spurious SOS calls, turning them down far more tactfully than I would have, and allow through any requests that actually merited attention. I was curious as to why Maria had thought this one would pass muster.

My deputy returned a slight shrug. “I was just thinking, it might be an ideal opportunity, minimum risk, to give our new recruit a chance to try out her skills.”

I gave her a measured stare. “You’re suggesting I send Melanie after armed bank robbers as a training exercise?”

She spread her hands defensively. “You’re pushing her hard, but there’s only so much she can achieve without experience. She’s been training for months and you’ve yet to send her on a mission. We can put her through simulations all you want, but if she freezes the first time she comes up against a flesh and blood enemy, it’s going to get her killed.”

I winced, acknowledging she had a point, but I still couldn’t bring myself to pit Melanie against a gang of criminals with guns. “No.”

“Nat-“

“Drop it, Hill.”

She pulled a face, but knew better than to push when I spoke like that. She turned stiffly back to her monitor, her erect bearing reeking of disapproval.

“What’s the status on Tokyo?” I asked, firmly moving on.

She flicked a few files aside on the gas screen, and enlarged another. “Quiet as the grave now. It was a good idea to send Clint in; just the mention of the name Hawkeye seems to have reminded them to mind their manners.”

“Did he make any actual contact?” I asked, not smiling. The memory of the butchery I had witnessed when I had finally tracked my best friend down in Tokyo, shortly before our last misadventure to gather the infinity stones, was still branded into my brain. Driven to the brink of madness after his family vanished, Clint had spent the five years of the Decimation on a self-imposed quest to punish every low-life and criminal who had escaped Thanos where his loved ones had not. His final act before I caught up with him had been to single-handedly massacre an entire Japanese crime syndicate. Small wonder his mere presence in Tokyo had sent the gangs scuttling into their holes.

“None,” Maria assured me. “A few sightings and the reminder that we are watching seems to have done the trick. He spent most of the trip at the hospital, checking on the victims of that last attack.” She paused, setting her chin. “Most are recovering, but two have died of their injuries.”

I winced at her tone, a none-too-subtle reminder that she had urged me to send Melanie with Clint, and I had refused to hear of it. If she had gone, those two victims might not have died. I tried to ignore the churn of guilt in my stomach. Melanie couldn’t heal everyone, and it had been far too dangerous a scenario to even consider it as her first mission. Bad enough that the Russians seemed to have set their sights on her, I wasn’t prepared to add the Tokyo mafia to her list of enemies.

“Any leads on our missing person case?” I pressed on, knuckling my forehead wearily.

Maria visibly restrained herself from rolling her eyes, and shrugged. “Still nothing. Whatever rock Goravitch has crawled under, we haven’t uncovered it yet.”

I sighed. “Keep looking.”

“Something will turn up, Nat. Sooner or later.”

I shook my head, intensely frustrated that no-one else seemed to share my feelings of urgency when it came to Goravitch. There had been no sign of activity by him or the KGB since Fury had discovered their agent, and after months of waiting, the others were starting to get impatient with my constant insistence on vigilance. If the KGB wanted to pay us back for the attack on the Red Room, they argued, surely they would have attempted something by now. The prevailing opinion was that they had had decided to back down, rather than face the Avengers again and suffer more losses.

I did not share this optimistic view. In my gut, I felt that Goravitch and the KGB were up to something, something big, but even if I could convince the others of that, there wasn’t much we could do about it. We had no idea where he was. There were a lot of KGB bolt holes, spread throughout Russia and beyond. Even I didn’t know more than a quarter of them, and we couldn’t monitor them all. Our resources were not inconsiderable, but theirs were vast.

I sighed again, and tried to refocus my thoughts. However much I disliked being forced into playing a defensive game, waiting for them to make the first move, dwelling on my sense of impending doom was counter-productive. For the moment, the best thing I could do was what I was doing; ensuring my team were at the peak of their performance, and as ready as they could be for whatever might come our way.

Particularly the newest member.

I glanced over at the bank of security monitors, wanting to reassure myself, as I did increasingly often, that Melanie was still present, and safe. She wasn’t in the lab. Bruce was there, speaking to an assistant with a clipboard next to him, but I couldn’t see Melanie. I checked the training room, the gun range, the outside compound. No Melanie. The officer on duty glanced at me curiously as I took over his controls, flicking through every camera in the place, feeling increasingly anxious when I found no sign of her anywhere in the building. She wasn’t one for sitting in our room, she always liked to be doing something.

“Maria, have you seen Mel recently?”

“Not since her lesson earlier,” Maria said absently, her eyes glued to a report.

I worried my lip, then gave in to impulse. “Friday, locate Melanie Macdonald.”

“Miss Macdonald is with Miss Maximoff in her quarters,” the pleasant voice of the AI program responded immediately.

My brow furrowed slightly. While I was happy that Wanda and Melanie got along so well – they both needed a friend, and they had a lot in common – the increasing amounts of time they were spending together lately bothered me a little. I couldn’t help remembering that Melanie had called her beautiful.

I gazed at the security monitors, frustrated. We didn’t have cameras in our personal quarters. We all needed privacy. I shouldn’t need to see her on camera. I knew, logically, that she was perfectly fine. Just as I knew, logically, that the friendship between her and Wanda was just that – friendship. Melanie loved me. I knew that. But logic didn’t stop my gut from twisting, didn’t stop the little voice of doubt whispering in my ear that perhaps the only reason she had chosen me was because Wanda hadn’t been around at the time... that perhaps, now that she had satisfied the unfulfilled longing she had nurtured for so long, she was losing interest, moving on to greener pastures…

I stood up. “Let me know if anything else comes up,” I said, leaving the room. I headed through the building, making for the residence wing, absently nodding to people who made way for me deferentially as I passed. The number of staff in the corridors thinned and finally disappeared altogether as I approached the restricted area, buzzing myself in. The only ones who were allowed in this section, apart from ourselves, were the cleaners, and then only on a strict schedule. This was our private space, where we could relax from being Avengers and just be ourselves.

Crossing the common lounge, making a mental note to tell Sam to stop leaving his magazines lying around like an untidy kid, I sprang lightly up the stairs to the top floor, too agitated to wait for the elevator. I paced down the corridor to Wanda’s suite. Her quarters were the furthest removed from the common areas, and the only one occupied on this floor. I had never visited her rooms before. I raised my hand somewhat self-consciously to knock, then halted as a totally unexpected sound came to my ears.

The tinkling notes of a piano came drifting through the door. I listened, puzzled. The unseen player stopped, I heard murmured voices, then started playing again. After a moment another set of notes joined in, higher up the scale, weaving a poignant tune.

Overcome with curiosity, I cracked open the door silently and peeked in.

Melanie and Wanda sat side by side at an elegant upright piano by the large window, their fingers moving gracefully over the keys. I felt my mouth drop open. I hadn’t known either of them played. I listened, spellbound, as Melanie began softly to sing, still playing a simple set of chords, while Wanda’s fingers flew over a complex melody. The combination was beautiful. It took me back to a peaceful time when we had sat by a fire beneath the stars, and she had sung to the accompaniment of the crackling flames and nature’s calls in the forest behind. I didn’t recognise the song she was singing, but it was deeply moving, all about love enduring through adversity. Absorbed, I forgot myself and leaned on the door, which gave a sudden loud creak.

The music cut off abruptly as they both turned, startled.

I grimaced, caught red handed breaking our one and only rule, and their faces took on identical accusatory expressions.

“You know, just because you’re the boss doesn’t mean you don’t have to knock,” Melanie scolded.

“Sorry,” I apologised, coming all the way into the room and shutting the door. I glanced at a chair, and then at Wanda, asking permission. She rolled her eyes but gestured in acquiescence. I sat down.

“That was beautiful,” I said, their music still ringing in my ears. “I didn’t know you played,” I said to Wanda. In all the time I had known her, she had never mentioned it.

Wanda shrugged. “My mother played. She taught me, when I was little. Pietro wasn’t really interested, but I loved it. It was something she and I did together. After she died I didn’t play again for a long time.” I grimaced in sympathy. Wanda and her twin brother Pietro had been orphaned at ten years old when terrorists had bombed their apartment building. Their desire for revenge had led them to volunteer for Hydra’s human enhancement programme, which had led them to Ultron, and ultimately to them taking their place amongst the Avengers, defending the citizens of Sokovia against Ultron. Pietro had died in that battle, leaving Wanda with no-one. The Avengers had become her family, just as they had for me. In particular she had grown very close to Vision, but their relationship had ended tragically when Thanos had murdered Vision in order to obtain the mind stone.

“After Thanos… after everything,” Wanda continued, blinking back tears, “I wanted to die. But I knew Vis would want me to live, to move on. It was hard… The piano was Pepper’s idea. She got me talking about the past, about my parents, about good times… and the next day the piano arrived.” She smiled self-consciously. “It took me a while to remember what my mother taught me, but I think I’m getting better.”

“You’re amazing,” I told her sincerely and she blushed.

“And you, my golden nightingale,” I forced a smile at Melanie, silently apologising for my irrational moment of jealousy, “is there no end to your talents?”

She frowned, disregarding the flattery and focussing at once on the note of guilt in my voice. A half exasperated, half affectionate look crossed her face as she shook her head. I reddened. Sometimes I wished she didn’t understand me _quite_ so well. Wanda glanced between us, unable to help picking up on our unspoken conversation, and sent me a reproachful, somewhat hurt look as she sensed the emotion that had brought me in search of them.

Embarrassed, I cleared my throat.

“I didn’t recognise that song?”

They glanced at each other.

“Er…”

“Well…”

My mouth dropped open again. “You _wrote_ that?” I exclaimed, impressed.

Melanie shrugged self-consciously. “The music is Wanda’s. She has a real talent for composition. We both came up with the words. Sometimes it’s nice to do something creative,” she added a little defensively. “Especially now. It’s nice to have an outlet that doesn’t involve potential death and destruction.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, clearly worried I would be offended.

I wasn’t. I knew how hard it was for her, dedicated as she was to the study and protection of _life_ , to accept the changes in herself, to adapt to the fact that she was capable of dealing out death. How could I object to any outlet she found that helped her to bear that burden?

“I get that,” I said sincerely. She met my gaze then, saw that I meant it, and smiled gratefully.

I was about to ask them to play something else, when Maria Hill’s voice interrupted over the intercom.

“Nat, we have a situation!”

I shot to my feet. “Go ahead.”

“Major earthquake, 7.6 on the Richter scale, just ripped through Indonesia. Surabaya City, on the east coast of Java is worst hit. Reports coming in as we speak, but its total chaos, we could be talking thousands of casualties, and hundreds of those are trapped in the rubble.”

I nodded. “Prep the jet, get the team on it, five minutes,” I ordered. “The full team; they’re going to need all the help they can get. I’ll assemble a ground crew and med team and have them on your tail as soon as I can.” I looked at the two women before me. Wanda was already on her feet, face eager, ready for action. Melanie stood up more slowly, her expression uncertain. I had specified the full team, but officially, I had not yet cleared her for duty. I knew she wanted to go; she had no objection to missing out on chasing terrorists and other equally unpleasant characters, but she had begun to show increasing signs of distress that I refused to let her go on missions where there were civilian casualties. I held her back, not because I underestimated her ability to help, but because I still had grave concerns over her unwillingness to fight. I couldn’t send her into a combat situation, even as a healer, if she wouldn’t protect herself.

Seeing her agonised expression, I made a swift decision. Maria said she was ready, I knew in my heart she had been ready for weeks, and here, finally, was a situation I could live with sending her into. “I know you don’t want to take lives,” I told her softly. Her eyes were conflicted, pleading. I smiled. “How about you go save some instead?”

She gasped, a fleeting look of panic passing over her face, then her expression hardened with resolve. She set her shoulders, squared her chin and smiled determinedly back at me. Proud of her, I kissed her briefly, then turned to head back to the control room, intent on doing my part. I still felt a slight pang at being out of the action, but it was a small price to pay for my continued anonymity. I pushed the regret aside.

“Get going, ladies. You’ve got a job to do.”

*****

Sam slapped Melanie on the shoulder. “Congratulations, greenie,” he hooted. “You’re official!”

Melanie looked like she wasn’t sure whether to celebrate or to run for the hills. I smiled fondly at her dazed expression and pulled her down on the couch next to me, handing her a glass of wine.

We were in the lounge, all of us crowding around a square coffee table. Rhodes had just taken the delivery of a stack of pizzas, which he now placed in the centre of the group.

“Hey, hey!” he exclaimed, slapping back the forest of hands that nearly knocked him over in the rush for the food. Laughing, the others waited for him to sit down before diving in.

“Here angel-face, wrap yourself around that,” Sam said with a sly grin, passing Melanie a slice on a napkin.

She took it and looked down at her lap, crimson with embarrassment.

The news coverage of the clean-up operation in Indonesia was still playing on the TV. The media were loving the story. Snapshots of footage filled the screen, of the Hulk lifting broken masonry the size of trucks; War Machine blasting through rubble to reach trapped survivors; Falcon carrying weeping victims down from teetering buildings; and Scarlet Witch peeling back twisted metal with tendrils of red flame, releasing terrified townspeople from their mangled vehicles. I was proud of my team, what they had accomplished today. But the main focus of the media wasn’t on them but on the real reason for the impromptu celebration, and the real reason I felt overflowing with love and pride in this moment.

“Mystery woman heals earthquake victims!” proclaimed the headline, scrolling across the screen.

Shots of Melanie, golden hair flying around her head like a halo, floating down into a cavernous crater where the subway system had collapsed. Of her waving her hand at a massive girder of twisted iron, dissolving it to atoms and releasing the bleeding, wretched figures that had been trapped beneath it. Of her kneeling beside paralysed victims, placing her hands over their wounds, her golden energy preserving their hold on life until an army of paramedics came swarming into view.

Interspersed with the footage were interviews with survivors, babbling excitedly in Indonesian. “She came like an angel,” the subtitles translated. “I was trapped, I was dying, and then she came like an angel…”

True to Fury’s prediction, the press had enthusiastically seized upon the image, and now every channel proclaimed to the excited public that there was a new Avenger in town. Angel, they called her. A golden goddess that had descended from the sky to ease the victims’ suffering with her healing touch.

Melanie was absolutely mortified, but I just smiled at her incoherent protests. It seemed to me that, for once, the media had actually got something right. I had always considered her my angel, her presence a miracle. It was nice to know the world agreed with me, although I had already had to endure an earful from Pepper for not giving her some warning before unleashing the press. Her PR team were going to be working some serious overtime for a while.

“To Angel,” Bruce said, holding up his bucket-sized glass.

“To Angel,” the others chorused in delight.

Melanie turned beseeching blue eyes on me. “Nat, _please_ …”

“Sorry sweetie,” I told her, grinning. “I’m afraid it’s not up to me. The public have spoken. You’re stuck with it.” I raised my own glass in salute.

Melanie groaned, dismayed.

“Just don’t ask your girlfriend how she got the name Black Widow,” Sam remarked with a sly grin.

I choked on the slice of pizza I had just brought to my mouth. That was below the belt!

“Woah, woah, that was a joke! Jeez!” Sam said hastily as my expression darkened.

“Sometimes you take the bedroom jokes a bit too far, Sam,” Melanie told him serenely. “You need to cool off.” She flicked a finger, and his drink shot out of his hand and emptied over his head. The others roared with laughter as he spluttered, beer running down his face. I relaxed as Melanie draped her arm protectively over my shoulders. But I really wished Sam hadn’t brought that up. I was battling enough insecurities over my first real relationship without giving that niggling little voice more ammunition.

Rhodes threw Sam a bunch of napkins to dry himself with. “That’ll teach you to mess with the Angel, junior!” he said, smirking.

Melanie groaned again as if pained.

“Hey, there are a lot worse names,” Wanda laughed. “You could have been stuck with one of the ones Sam and Rhodey thought up.”

“Hey what was wrong with the Atom Bomb?” Sam exclaimed in mock offence, not easily subdued, even while scrubbing beer out of his hair.

“Disintegrator had a ring to it, I thought,” Rhodes defended. He gestured at the tv with a half-eaten slice of pizza, where the image of Melanie was once more dissolving the massive girder. “She does disintegrate things.”

Wanda pulled a face and grinned at Melanie, indicating this proved her point.

Melanie had to laugh. “Fine,” she conceded, “You’re right, it could be so much worse. It’s just, ‘Angel’, seems so…. blasphemous. Like I’m pretending to be a god or something.”

“I keep telling you, you are a goddess,” I murmured, kissing her lingeringly, ignoring the immediate outbreak of sniggers, wolf whistles and noises of mock disgust.

“Just think of the potential wardrobe!” Rhodes joked. “I’m thinking some sexy gold body armour, a cape, maybe some wings -”

Melanie broke off my kiss to round on him in abject horror.

I grabbed the nearest slice of pizza and threw it at him, smearing his face with melted cheese. The others roared with laughter.

“No wings,” I assured Melanie. “Give her a break,” I said sternly to Rhodes and Sam, though I was struggling to keep a straight face.

“ _You_ should give her a break,” Maria said, stretching languidly where she lounged on the arm of the sofa. She gesticulated at me with the bottle she was drinking from. “You should give us all a break actually. Not to complain, boss, but downtime has been a little thin on the ground recently.”

“Too right,” muttered Sam.

Taken aback, I opened my mouth to blurt something defensive, but Bruce cut across me.

“They’ve got a point, Nat. You’ve been all work and no play recently. We could all use a little fun.”

I threw my hands up. “What do you suggest?”

“I’m just saying, it would do us good to get out of here for a day or two. Take some R&R.”

“Hit the beach,” Sam took over enthusiastically. He shrugged, grinning. “You know, soak up a few rays, play some ball, barbeque…”

I started to protest, but Maria cut me off in her turn.

“I know you don’t want to be recognised in public, and it’s dangerous for all of us to be exposed away from the facility. But is there really _nowhere_ in the world we can go to blow off a little steam without every Tom, Dick and Harry watching us on tv?”

I gazed at them helplessly. They smirked back. Clearly there was a conspiracy here. But they were right, I realised. I had been pushing them hard for weeks. There was no sign of any attack in the offing. They had just assisted in the clean-up of a major natural disaster, performed heroically, saved hundreds of lives. They deserved a holiday.

I looked at Melanie. She smiled, her face lighting up.

“Okay guys,” I sighed. “You win. I know somewhere we can go.”


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and the gang take a well earned break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my favourite scene in the movies has always been the party/hammer-lifting competition in Age of Ultron, so this chapter is kind of my tribute to that - a glimpse of the Avengers getting to chill out together and have a laugh.

The quinjet floated in the bay like a parody of some fabulous yacht, complete with Hulk seated on the edge of the ramp, dangling his huge green feet over the side and gazing down in delight at the multicoloured fish that darted through the crystal-clear water.

I sat on the log outside the cabin, relaxed in the sun, idly listening to Rhodes argue grilling technique over the barbeque with Fury, who had just _happened_ to be checking in with the Bartons when we turned up to invite them on this outing, or so he insisted. Laughter and grunts of exertion drifted along the beach from where Clint and his eldest son, Cooper, Sam and Maria churned up the sand, playing volleyball. Wanda and Melanie stood waist deep in the surf, batting a smaller ball between them. Pepper and Laura sat by the water’s edge, assisting Morgan and Nathaniel with the creation of a monster sandcastle, the two youngsters splashing in and out of the water gleefully with their little plastic buckets. Clint’s daughter Lila wandered the shoreline, collecting shells.

I watched the peaceful, happy scene in contentment.

We had loaded up the jet and headed off, with a couple of stops to pick up extras, to the co-ordinates I had divined, eons ago it seemed, using nothing but a few basic tools that Melanie had shaped from a few twigs. I was gratified to find that my calculations had been respectably accurate, enabling us to find that tiny oasis of green amid thousands of miles of endless ocean.

It was strange, returning to the place of my awakening. So much had happened on this island. So much had happened since. But the idyllic beauty of the place remained, and I felt the peace that had struck me that first day sink into my being, warming my soul as the sun warmed my skin. I watched my family play and smiled, determined to fix this moment in my memory forever.

“Who wants burgers and who wants dogs?” Rhodes called cheerfully.

“Ooh saved by the bell,” Sam laughed, exchanging a high five with Maria as Clint picked himself up out of the sand, the volleyball hitting the ground beside him.

“Daddy come look at our castle!” Nathaniel ran over excitedly, tugging on Clint’s hand.

“Sure fella. Hey, that is awesome,” Clint said, sweeping his youngest son up onto his hip and surveying their handywork. “You’d need a dozen tanks to storm that puppy, for sure.”

“But they wouldn’t be able to get over the moat, Uncle Clint,” Morgan told him seriously.

Pepper and Laura laughed, getting to their feet, brushing wet sand off their hands. Laura kissed Clint on the cheek. “So who won the volleyball championships?” she asked teasingly.

“Sam and Maria,” Cooper answered for his father. “But they don’t play fair. Auntie Nat should be on our team.”

“Woah, leave me out of this,” I said, laughing. I raised my voice to shout over to the others in the water. “Mel, Wanda, Bruce! Food’s up!”

“Great, I am starving,” Wanda said happily, wading towards us, Melanie in her wake. Bruce slipped off the quinjet with a mighty splash and swam to shore, catching a wave and surfing onto the sand on his stomach like a great green whale.

For a few minutes there was happy chaos as everyone helped themselves to food. We settled down to eat on four logs that Bruce carried from the forest and arranged in a rough square. The air was full of laughter and cheerful chatter. Clint congratulated Cooper on fitting a whole burger in his mouth at once, and Laura told them both off in long-suffering resignation. I sat comfortably with my back to a log, legs stretched out in front of me, ankles crossed, my arm around Melanie. She leaned into my side contentedly, stealing a quick kiss while nobody was watching. I retaliated by smearing ketchup on her nose and she laughed.

Sam swallowed the last mouthful of his burger and stretched, patting his stomach with a satisfied sound. “This is a sweet deal you have going here, you two. I love what you’ve done with the place.” He looked over the cabin with approval. “Who’d have thought a science nerd would be so good at construction?”

“Actually, the science nerd was as terrible as can be expected at construction,” Melanie drawled. “The pretty little treehouse _I_ built fell on top of us during a hurricane. Nat built most of this one while I was recovering from severe concussion.”

They all gaped incredulously at me. I shrugged a little self-consciously. “What can I say, I’m good with my hands.” I was actually ludicrously proud that the little cabin still stood, surprisingly unscathed despite having been abandoned to the wilderness and the elements for months. I had built it to last. “And Mel did help finish it off, once she was back on her feet.”

“Why didn’t you put it back in the tree, Auntie Nat?” Nathaniel said in disappointment.

I laughed, tousling my namesake’s hair. “Sorry sport. I guess I like my feet on the ground.”

As the warmth of the day faded into the cool of evening, we built a fire in the centre of our circle and sat basking in the heat of the flames. We toasted sausages and marshmallows, and Cooper and Lila inducted Melanie and Wanda into the secret of making s’mores, such delicacies not being known where they came from. Pepper and Laura re-joined the group after putting the two younger children to bed in the cabin.

It was such a peaceful scene, I reflected as I nibbled on a marshmallow. No danger, no mission, no worries to speak of, just a happy group of family and friends relaxing around a campfire, enjoying each other’s company. It reminded me of the days, sadly few and far between but all the more precious for that, that I had spent with Clint and his family at the farm, playing with the children, cooking and gossiping in the kitchen with Laura, helping Clint with his never-ending refurbishment projects. Back then those little glimpses of family life constituted the only happiness I had ever known. I had always thought that I could never have what Clint had, what Pepper had. That the Red Room had taken that away from me. Now, watching Melanie laughing with Clint’s elder two children, it occurred to me that maybe I was wrong. Maybe I _could_ have a real home, a real family, one day. I saw again that vision I had had of myself in a wedding dress, Melanie on my arm, the cheering of our assembled friends as we kissed on the threshold. And though I couldn’t bear a child, it occurred to me that Melanie probably could. I saw it so clearly in my mind’s eye… _the two of us, Melanie in a hospital gown looking exhausted but blissfully happy, cradling a new-born baby in her arms. She stroked the tiny wrinkled cheek lovingly. I wrapped my arms around them both. “What shall we call her?” Mel whispered_ …

“Nat? You with us?”

“Yeah,” I said hurriedly, shaking myself out of my daydream. “Sorry – what?”

Melanie laughed, returning to sit beside me, clutching an oozing s’more. “You looked miles away. Penny for your thoughts?”

I coughed, embarrassed. “Maybe later.” I covered my blush by kissing her, sparing a brief moment to be thankful that she did _not_ share Wanda’s mind-reading abilities.

Her lips lingered on mine. “Definitely later,” she murmured suggestively, giving me a look full of veiled promise.

“Mmmmm,” I agreed, happy with the direction her assumption had taken her in, for more reasons than one.

She snuggled in beside me and started on her s’more. I tried to catch up on where the topic of conversation had wandered to while I had been distracted.

“So I carried the tank right up to the palace, dumped it at the general’s feet and was, like, ‘Boom! You looking for this?’,” Rhodes crowed, miming with a sausage on a skewer.

“Come on man,” Sam said, laughing and rolling his eyes. “Do you even keep track of how many times you’ve told that story?”

“It’s a quality story.”

“That we’ve heard a thousand times!”

“New girl there hasn’t heard it,” Rhodes retorted. He indicated Melanie with the half-eaten sausage. “I’m just giving her the benefit of my experience.”

Melanie smiled and inclined her head, acknowledging that this was true. “I’m all ears,” she said lazily, settling more comfortably in the crook of my arm.

“Ah, don’t encourage him,” Sam groaned. “Seriously, man, find some new stories.”

“How about how I knocked your ass out from under that falling building that was about to squash you flat in Indonesia?”

“That sounds like an excellent story,” Maria commented, grinning.

Sam looked vaguely insulted. “I had it! Two more seconds and I would have blown by that thing.”

Rhodes snorted. “Two more seconds and you’d have looked like one of those s’mores. But it’s okay, chicken wings, I had your back.”

“Guys,” I scolded, laughing, “tone down the testosterone will you, it’s getting hard to breathe.” The women all laughed. I felt Melanie choke on her s’more, her shoulders shake with amusement.

“Okay, okay,” Rhodes said magnanimously. “You did pull a damn fine move through that skyscraper. Whoosh, straight through the window, grab the girl, shoot out the other side, that was some fancy flying!”

“Thanks,” said Sam, grinning. “And I suppose, thank you for saving my life,” he added after a moment’s consideration.

“You want to talk saving lives, Mel is the star of the show,” Maria said, saluting her admiringly with a beer bottle. “The news was still full of it all the way here. There are a lot of people in Surabaya who would have died of their injuries if you hadn’t been there, not to mention that guy under the railway girder who would have been paralysed from the neck down. You worked miracles yesterday!”

I felt Melanie tense uncomfortably. Struck by a sudden intuitive feeling that this could go downhill, I opened my mouth to hurriedly change the subject, but before I could come up with safer topic, Sam popped the can of worms wide open.

“Yeah your super healing powers are awesome girl,” he said happily. He smacked Rhodes playfully on the leg, making the complex harness that enabled him to walk give out a soft whirring sound. “You’ll be able to kiss this contraption goodbye finally; the Angel will have you walking again in a blink!”

Melanie went rigid beneath my arm, and I stifled a groan of dismay. Because Sam, good-natured, well-meaning Sam, had innocently brought up the question that Melanie dreaded, that she had desperately hoped she wouldn’t be called on to answer. To be honest, I had expected it to have come up long before this. Because seeing what she could do, how she had repaired my damaged tissue, it would be logical and natural for Rhodes to ask if she could repair the damage to his spine, allow him to walk normally once again. The thought of having to crush that hope filled Melanie with despair. But Rhodes had never asked. Perhaps he had sensed her reluctance and realised there was no hope. Perhaps he simply had not allowed himself to hope. But now Sam, carried away with his enthusiasm, had raised the question for him.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Rhodes cleared his throat uncomfortably, his harness whirring as he shifted.

Sam looked around, confused. “He will… won’t he?” he faltered.

Melanie ducked out from under my arm, picked up a stick and poked at the fire, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, her face conflicted. I opened my mouth to take the burden of answering from her, but Bruce beat me to it.

“She can’t, Sam,” he said sadly.

Melanie shuddered, and sent an anguished, almost fearful glance at Rhodes. He cleared his throat again, then a third time, his discomfort plain.

“What?” Sam stammered. “But… Nat… the earthquake victims… surely she can fix –“

“She can’t,” Bruce interrupted. “That’s not how it works. She doesn’t create tissue, she rearranges molecules. She creates a chemical reaction within cells, prompting them to divide and replicate, speeding up the body’s own repair systems. But for that to work there have to be still living cells left for her to work with.”

“But she brought Nat back to life!” Sam protested.

“Only because she got to her within minutes of her death,” Bruce explained. “Soon enough that sufficient cells were still alive.” He glanced at Rhodes apologetically. “The specialised neurons in your spine died years ago. Mel can’t repair what is no longer there.”

I was suddenly intensely grateful to Bruce for taking on the burden of explaining this, for being _able_ to explain this. I could see Melanie trembling in the flickering light of the fire. She had been through so much in the last few years. I knew, strong and resilient though she seemed to the others, beneath her cheerful exterior she was suffering badly with the strain of so much change. This conversation, coming out of the blue, had hit a raw nerve. I started to reach for her, even as Sam unwittingly twisted the dagger in her wound.

“But surely –“ he began again.

“Stop it!” Melanie was suddenly on her feet. The others recoiled, shocked at the fury that twisted her expression. “Stop expecting me to wave my hand and fix everything,” she yelled. “I can’t, okay! I’m not an angel, whatever they’re saying on the news. I can’t create life, I can’t make a blind man see or a depressed person happy or a paralysed man get up and walk! I’m not some goddess that can just magically make everything right! I’m not a god, I’m not an angel or a miracle worker…. I don’t even know what I am anymore… but I’m not what you think I am, and I can’t make it right. I just can’t!”

A ringing silence fell as she finished this tirade. For a moment she stood there, whole body trembling with the force of her emotions. The group sat stricken, open-mouthed and speechless before her rage. Then abruptly the anger faded from her face, replaced with bitter anguish. With a strangled sob, Melanie turned and fled, plunging into the forest.

“Were you born with your foot in your mouth, Falcon, or did you have to really wedge it in there?” Fury said sardonically.

Rhodes smacked Sam round the back of the head. “Nice going, junior!”

Sam looked mortified. “But I didn’t know… I just assumed…”

“Who asked you to assume anything?” Rhodes said angrily. “Why couldn’t you just mind your own damn business?”

“But I was only trying to help –“

“Does that look like helping to you?” Rhodes demanded, pointing in the direction Melanie had fled. “Damn it boy, don’t you think if she could have fixed my legs she would have offered by now? I knew that. Why do you think I never asked?”

Sam looked stricken. He looked at me helplessly. “Nat, I –“

“Shut it,” I snapped. I stood up and pointed my finger in his face. “For someone who used to help soldiers with PTSD, you seem to have a hard time recognising when someone is suffering. You saw her yesterday. Were you so blinded by the ones she healed that you didn’t see the ones she couldn’t? How it _killed_ her that she couldn’t? She would fix Rhodey’s legs in a heartbeat if she could. She would heal the whole goddamn world if she could, but she can’t! For god’s sake, you all saw her profile, you know what happened the day her powers manifested. She levelled a hospital! A hospital full of suffering people, people who _died_ , or if they survived were never the same again! People blinded, paralysed, broken… all because she had a power thrust upon her that she never asked for and couldn’t control! Don’t you think she would do anything to undo all that pain? Don’t you think she wishes she could go back and fix all those broken bodies? That she could bring all those dead back to life?”

Sam opened his mouth, closed it again. I straightened, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

I shook my head. “I’m not the one you need to apologise to.” I turned and walked away, following Melanie into the forest.

Away from the light of the fire, it was pitch black. The canopy was quickly thick enough to swallow the moon and the stars. I cursed as I picked my way slowly through the undergrowth, wishing I had a torch. I stopped and listened, trying to determine where Melanie could have gone. She couldn’t have gone far, she didn’t have a light either. I listened to the night sounds of the forest, the hoots of monkeys and chirps of insects and calls of frogs. Distantly, I heard a discordant note in the familiar symphony. I headed towards the sound, picking my way with difficulty through the dark undergrowth.

A gleam of moonlight shimmered ahead of me. I broke through the trees, and, looking around, recognised the small clearing we had made into our training area. The remains of the mats we had improvised were still scattered around on the ground, disintegrating and half-overgrown with weeds.

Melanie was on her knees in the centre of the clearing, her arms wrapped around herself, rocking back and forth as she sobbed bitterly.

I crossed the clearing and dropped to my own knees beside her. Without words I pulled her into my arms, pressing my lips to her hair.

“I’m sorry…” she sobbed. “I can’t do it… I’m sorry…”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. Sam didn’t know. He’s mortified. He meant well, he just didn’t realise….”

“Rhodey –“

“Rhodes knew,” I told her gently. “He knew you couldn’t heal him. That’s why he never asked. He didn’t want to put you in that position. He’s okay, Mel. He doesn’t blame you. No-one blames you, for anything.”

“But they expect me to be something I’m not,” she cried desperately. “The whole world thinks I’m some kind of miracle worker… they think I’m an Avenger…”

“You _are_ an Avenger,” I told her firmly.

“But I can’t… everyone assumes I can just fix everything…”

“Then they have only themselves to blame if they are disappointed,” I told her. “No-one can tell you what your powers can or can’t do. If they make assumptions, that’s their problem. What you _can_ do is far more important than what you can’t.”

“But what if I can’t do what _you_ want me to do?” she pleaded. “Nat, I’m not like you… I’m not like them…” Her face twisted in despair. “You want me to be a fighter, but I’m not! I don’t know if I can bear to kill anyone, not again…”

“Then don’t,” I said simply. I caught her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Mel, I know I have asked a great deal of you, but I will never ask you to do more than you can do. Neither will the others. I don’t need you to be like me, Mel. You’re the opposite of me, and that’s why I love you. Fighting doesn’t automatically mean killing. I can’t promise that there will never come a day when you have to make that decision, whether to use your powers to kill. But that decision is yours to make. I will never order you to kill anyone. I will never expect you to. And neither will anyone else.” She looked at me with eyes full of tears, still wracked with doubts. “Being an Avenger isn’t about killing, Mel,” I said softly. “It’s about helping people, protecting them. It’s about being willing to fight to save them. And there will be times when we fail, when we can’t save them all, no matter how hard we try. But that doesn’t mean we stop trying. _You_ will never stop trying. Because saving people is what you do. You _are_ an angel, not because you can magically make everything right, but because you are willing to give everything you have to try.”

She gazed at me, wonderingly. “When did you get so wise?” she marvelled softly.

I smiled. “When I was saved by an angel,” I answered. I touched my lips to her face, kissing away salty tears.

Abruptly she grabbed me and kissed me fiercely. Her body pressed urgently against mine, on fire with need; her hands tore at my few clothes. I drew her closer, so that she straddled my knees, and pulled her t-shirt over her head. She tilted her face to the moon as I kissed her neck and ran my hands up and down her back. I rose up on my knees and lifted her so that I could peel off her shorts. She yanked my vest over my head and kissed me passionately, her hands raking down my spine. Too impatient to wait, I sat back on my heels and pulled her down onto my hand in a smooth motion, thrusting two fingers deeply inside her. She gasped with pleasure. My face buried in her breasts, her hands tangled in my hair, we rocked back and forth. The tips of my fingers found her inner sweet spot, pressing it firmly with every motion of our bodies. Melanie reached down, slipped her hand down the front of the denim shorts I hadn’t gotten around to removing, popping open the button. Moaning, I parted my knees and lifted a little to allow her access. The touch of her fingers sent fire through me. In seconds she was inside me, we were inside each other, rocking and gasping as one. I felt her firm, hot nodule against my palm, felt my own brush tantalisingly against her hand with the rhythm of our movements. Awash with pleasure and unrestrained lust, we lost ourselves in the moment. We peaked within seconds of each other, shuddering with release, and fell sideways onto the moss-covered mat, still one. Breathing heavily, I opened my eyes and gazed into her face, savouring her look of dreamy satisfaction. “I love you,” I murmured.

She opened her eyes and smiled, kissed me lingeringly. “Love you more,” she whispered. Gently she removed herself from within me; reluctantly I disengaged from her. We lay replete for a time, listening to the night sounds and the gradual slowing of our breathing. After a few minutes however, we were starting to shiver in the evening chill. An insect ran over my leg and I twitched.

Melanie sat up reluctantly and felt around for her clothing. As much as I longed to stay here, alone with her beneath the moon, I did the same, refastening my shorts and pulling my top back over my head. I shivered, rubbing my arms where goose bumps had raised along my skin.

She stopped me as I moved to get up.

I paused at her cue, looked at her quizzically.

She rested her palm against my cheek. “You need to start trusting me.”

I blanched. “I do trust you,” I protested.

“Right. That’s why you were so eager to hunt me down in Wanda’s room, because you trusted me,” she said, the soft sarcasm making her Scottish accent more pronounced than usual.

Ah crap. I squirmed uncomfortably. I had hoped that with all that had happened in the last day or two she would have forgotten about that.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, shame-faced. “I just… you’ve been spending so much time together… I thought maybe… but I was stupid. I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “I get that trust is difficult for you. You’re automatically on the lookout for betrayal, because that’s all you’ve ever known. I get that, Nat, I really do. But I need you to listen to me now, very carefully, because I am only going to say this once, and then I never want to have to have this conversation again.” She cupped both sides of my face in her hands, her eyes piercing me with their intensity. “I like Wanda. A lot. She is a wonderful person, and I do feel a very strong connection with her. Sometimes I wonder if the mind stone brought us together on purpose…”

“Not really helping,” I complained.

She gave me a warning look. “Let me finish.”

I subsided.

“Wanda and I share a lot of scars. You of all people know what it feels like to have done things you desperately regret. We both feel that way about our powers, about people who got hurt when we lost control. It helps to have someone else who can understand that. But most of all, we share losses. We both lost our parents young, we were both left with no-one but our brothers, and then lost them too… It’s a bond between us, something we both need, don’t you see? Something _she_ needs very badly. She hides it well, but she's still full of grief, and anger, and guilt, over Vision. She was left so alone... she needs someone. Not a lover, that's not what she wants, but something stronger than friendship. A connection. I think Vision would have wanted that. He wouldn't have wanted her to be alone. That’s why I said that about the mind stone. Sometimes I think he, or it, created me to bring us together, someone she could feel a bond with, someone who could help her heal once he was gone. But caring about her doesn’t take anything away from how I feel about _you_.” She stroked my face lovingly. “No-one can ever change the way I feel about you, Nat. Wanda is like family to me, and I love her like a sister, but _you_ are my partner, the other half of my being, my one and only love. I belong with you. I am yours, heart, body and soul. I have never, _will_ never, love anyone else the way I love you. I hijacked a time-machine, travelled to the other side of the galaxy, and made a deal with the devil for you. Not for Wanda, for _you_.” She smacked me lightly on the arm. “So stop being stupid, and next time, remember that.”

I hung my head, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

She laughed lightly, wrapping her legs around me and biting me playfully on the shoulder. “I believe I already forgave you,” she murmured, “but I can forgive you again if you insist…”

I grinned. I was very tempted… but we were both shivering with cold now, and the dilapidated, mildewed mats weren’t the most comfortable of places for an extended liaison.

“Later,” I promised. I sighed. “Right now, we should get back to the fire. It’s cold out here.”

She nodded with a grimace, and got to her feet.

Hand in hand, we made our way back through the dark forest, back to the beach where our friends sat around the fire. It looked like Cooper and Lila had been packed off to bed. Only the adults were left, talking in hushed tones.

No-one made any comment as we re-joined the group.

“So Clint, did you finish remodelling the dining room?” I asked casually, dropping back into my seat.

Laura rolled her eyes fondly. “He finished that, then decided the small barn would make a great workshop for him and Cooper, so now that’s in pieces.”

Sam tossed me a bottle and offered one to Melanie. “Want a beer?” he asked, in a would-be casual voice. His eyes pleaded forgiveness.

Melanie smiled. “That’s not beer,” she teased lightly. “You Americans have no notion of real beer. You need to get hold of some proper real ale. A good dark Scottish stout, decent head on it,” she pinched her fingers together in an expression of perfection. “Heaven in a pint glass.”

Sam laughed, heartfelt relief in his voice that she wasn’t going to be all huffy with him. But that was Melanie all over. She never bore grudges. She had a temper, but once she calmed down, she forgot about it.

“I guess I need to make a trip to the highlands on the next beer run!”

I regarded Melanie in some surprise. “I didn’t know you liked real ale. Last time we were here all you did was drool over the thought of a glass of shiraz!”

“Heaven in a _wine_ glass,” Melanie said, grinning.

“Well that I can do,” Sam said happily, rummaging through the selection of bags and cool boxes and pulling out a bottle of red. He presented it to Melanie with a flourish.

“Bah, wine,” Wanda said dismissively, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Sour grape juice! You need some good old-fashioned Sokovian Rakia, now _that_ puts fire in your belly.”

“Rakia is for weaklings,” I scoffed. “Genuine Russian vodka, properly distilled, none of this weak high-street rubbish, now that is a drink.”

“Sorry ladies, I’m afraid the bar is all out of furniture polish,” Sam drawled, grinning.

“What?” I said, pretending to swoon in horror. “Who put together the supply list for this trip and forgot the vodka? You are so fired!”

“Well I do have some vodka martini…”

“Shaken or stirred?” Fury asked with a straight face.

“I always thought that was just a stupid Bond gimmick,” Clint said. “Is there actually a difference?”

I threw up my hands dramatically. “Oh my god, Barton, get out. We can no longer be friends. I can’t possibly have anyone on this team that is so deeply ignorant!”

He laughed. “No kidding. There’s really a difference?”

“Not sure what this one is,” Sam said apologetically. “It’s premixed.”

I groaned theatrically. “That is an abomination. Maria, make a note. Someone else needs to be in charge of beverages.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “I’ll put it on the agenda.”

Sam huffed, pretending to be offended. “Does that mean you don’t want a martini?”

“I didn’t say that…”


	3. 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little pillow talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this time, but an important conversation that I felt Natasha and Melanie needed to have.

Everyone was more than a little worse for wear, and even I wasn’t entirely sober, by the time we called it a night.

We had given over the cabin to the children and Pepper, so I steered Melanie towards the tent we had set up earlier, laughing at her attempts to walk in a straight line. I had never seen her this drunk before. Getting her to the tent was something of a challenge as she kept trying to stop to kiss me, her hands tangling in my clothing. In danger of being undressed in full view of anyone who cared to watch, I finally prised her hands away, picked her up and carried her. She giggled helplessly against my shoulder.

Once in the privacy of the tent, I surrendered willingly to her wandering hands. Impressively, her inebriated state didn’t seem to diminish her skills in the slightest. Our laughter dissolved into moans of passion, and I was thankful that I had had the foresight to set our tent up well away from anyone else’s.

That was the last coherent thought I had for some time.

Eventually, our passion sated, we lay relaxed in each other’s arms. I idly tickled my fingertips up and down her arm, tired but not yet ready to sleep.

It had been an almost idyllic day. For once I had been able to forget my concerns, forget my responsibilities, and just be a regular person. I wished it could continue, but even as I lay there, I felt my worries creeping back into my mind.

The news of our involvement in Indonesia had been broadcast worldwide. Goravitch would know Melanie was now counted amongst the Avengers, and thanks to the media, he also had footage of most of our team in action. I turned over the news coverage I had seen in my head, trying to see it from the point of view of an enemy, determine what strengths and weaknesses it might have revealed.

Melanie shifted in my arms.

“You’re worrying again,” she murmured softly.

I grimaced. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Nearly. Not yet. What are you thinking?”

I didn’t answer.

She sighed. “Let me guess. Goravitch.”

“He knows where we are now,” I said softly.

“He knew that anyway,” she retorted. “Your rescue party were hardly subtle about breaking us out of his underground hellhole. Where else would we be?”

I was forced to admit she was correct, but it didn’t ease my tension. “I guess I don’t like the thought of him knowing for sure.”

In my own mind, I knew it was more than that. Ever since Fury had confirmed that Goravitch had survived, his continued existence was a threat I was desperate to eliminate, but the bastard seemed in no hurry to make any move that would reveal his position. The thought that he was still out there rankled like barb in my flesh. I fretted constantly about what he could be planning, particularly as I knew his preferred goal was acquisition rather than extinction. He wanted me, and he wanted enhanced individuals to play with, and here I was with a whole gang of them. Watching their antics in Indonesia would probably drive him even more insane. He would be reviewing every second of the footage, greedily eyeing the members of my team like priceless jewels he longed to possess. Knowing exactly where we were but being unable to lay a finger on us would only infuriate him, make him more determined, drive him to more convoluted depths of dark and devious plotting. I knew I would have no peace while he was still at large, that it was past time to stop waiting for him to make a move and take the fight to him, but to do that I had to _find_ him, and every lead I had followed so far had been a dead end. The only information we had about him was a few fragments of my memories, and none of us wanted to examine those too closely, considering the circumstances in which I had come into contact with him. There was always the possibility that examining other areas of my past might shed some light on the matter, but I shied away from delving too deeply in that direction, dreading what might come to light, and the effect those revelations might have on my relationship with Melanie.

Her body still entwined with mine, she could feel my growing disquiet.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured. Her fingers absently played with a strand of my hair. “Nat, won’t you tell me? Must we keep secrets from each other?” There wasn’t a trace of intoxication left in her voice now.

I sighed. “I don’t want to have secrets from you.”

She cocked her head to one side. I couldn’t make out her expression in the dim light of the moon filtering through the tent walls, but I guessed she would be frowning, hearing the unsaid addition.

“But?” she prompted.

“But there are things I’d rather you didn’t know about me,” I confessed. That was putting it mildly. My insides squirmed in despair at the thought of her discovering the sordid details of my history. I didn’t see how our relationship could possibly survive such a disclosure, yet if my past continued to come back to haunt me, I feared that was exactly what would happen.

She shook her head, caressing me. “You worry about all the wrong things,” she murmured. “I love _you_ , Natasha Romanoff. I don’t care what Natalia Romanova did in the past. You aren’t that person anymore. It won’t change the way I feel about you.”

I laughed bitterly. “Easy for you to say that now. You don’t know what I did.”

She snorted. “Fine. Let’s play a game shall we? Let’s see if I can guess what you’re so worried I’m going to freak out about…”

I groaned. “Mel…”

She ignored me. “Obviously I already know you were an assassin, so it’s not the fact you killed people that’s bothering you, or not _just_ that. So… I’m guessing you probably killed someone that you think I would find particularly upsetting… am I getting warm?”

I swallowed hard and didn’t answer.

She took my silence as agreement. “Okay, so who would you regret killing that much? Not fighters, probably not politicians or criminals… someone weak and defenceless… maybe someone’s wife… or a child…”

I couldn’t help myself, I cringed. The image of a young girl with blonde ringlets swam in my mind’s eye. A senator’s daughter. I had been commissioned to deliver a particularly gruesome message to her father that his political manoeuvrings were not looked upon with favour. The girl couldn’t have been more than nine or ten.

Melanie stroked my hair soothingly. “Score one for me,” she murmured. She drew me closer and carried on with her musing.

“Then of course there’s your methods. I’m guessing you preferred quick, clean kills, but maybe your employers sometimes wanted something a little more spectacular… something that would harm a lot of innocent bystanders in the process…”

I winced again, my gut twisting. I could still feel the shocks rumbling through the earth of Sao Paulo as the towering apartment building I had rigged with explosives crashed to the ground. I could hear the sirens, the screams of the wounded, the heartbroken wails of the families of the dead; see the lines of bodies that grew longer and longer as they were pulled from the rubble. So many innocent lives extinguished as a lesson to the leaders of a drug cartel that had nested on the thirteenth floor, who had cheated my employers out of several million dollars.

Melanie’s stroking hands never wavered.

“So, what else would you be worried I wouldn’t like? I suppose we should address the whole Black Widow thing. What could you have got a reputation for doing, I wonder, that would have given you the name of a type of spider where the female is notorious for killing the male after mating…?”

This time I did more than cringe, I positively squirmed beneath her gentle sarcasm.

She snorted again softly. “You think I’m going to freak out that you used your body that way?” Her voice hardened. “Nat, I’m not as innocent as you seem to think. You were female, and attractive, you think I don’t know that the sick bastards would have trained you to use that?”

“Trained yes, but…” I swallowed. “I wasn’t actually ordered to, not that often. That part was mostly me.” I was glad of the darkness that hid my blush of shame. “I just… I liked sex. A lot. As long as I was in control, it didn’t matter to me who it was, or how vile they were, I still enjoyed it. I craved it, constantly. I found myself making excuses to go down that road, even if there was another way.”

She nodded slowly, a barely perceptible movement in the darkness. “I get that.”

I blinked, surprised. “You do?” I said dubiously.

I sensed her roll her eyes at my tone. “Just because I’m not interested in doing that myself, doesn’t mean I can’t understand why you would want to. I get that it feels good, and I can see why, for someone like you, it would become an addiction.” I shifted uncomfortably, and she sighed. “Nat, you were an abused young woman who had felt precious little pleasure in her life. A lot of victims of abuse struggle with addiction. You see it all the time. When all you feel for so long is pain, to suddenly find something that feels really good… of course it’s addictive. Drink and drugs wouldn’t have done it for you, not with the amount you can put away without breaking a sweat, so what else were you going to get addicted to?” I felt her grimace, then shrug. “I’m not saying what you did was right, but it _was_ understandable.”

“How can you be so blasé about this?” I demanded, shaken. “How can you just brush off everything I’ve done? I’m everything you despise…”

She shook her head. “No, you _were_ everything I despise, and even then, that wasn’t who you were, it’s who you were made to be.” Her eyes pierced me even through the darkness. “Tell me, did you enjoy being an assassin?”

I frowned. “You mean did I enjoy killing?”

“Yes.”

I thought about it, fumbling for complete honesty. I knew how I felt about it now, but at the time?

“I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “Sometimes, if the target was particularly repulsive, I felt glad they were dead, but I didn’t feel anything about the… act of killing itself. I was given a task, and all that mattered was completing it. If the task was getting information, I did whatever it took to get it. If the mission required someone to die, then I saw to it, but I didn’t take any pleasure in ending a life. Tracking them down, manipulating them,” I blushed, “using them, yes, I took pleasure in that, but killing them? That part was more of a chore than anything. Something that just had to be done. Like having to wash the dishes after a good meal.” I grimaced at how callous that sounded, but it was the truth.

She nodded. “You are not a killer at heart, Nat. You have too much compassion for that. You were conditioned to kill on command, but you never enjoyed it like some of them do. You don’t get off on causing pain like Goravitch.”

I shrugged. “What’s your point?”

She traced my jawline with a finger. “My point is, there is a big difference between someone who kills because they _have_ to, and someone who kills because they _want_ to. What would have happened if you had refused to complete a mission? If you had refused to kill?”

I shrugged again. “I wouldn’t have lived very long. The next agent to be sent would have had orders to cross me off.”

“As well as the target you had been sent to kill in the first place.”

“Yes.”

“You see?” she murmured. “You never had a choice. Refusing to obey wouldn’t have saved anyone, it would only have condemned you to death as well. But when you had the opportunity to escape, to find a better way, you took it.” She sighed. “I’m not condoning what you did, Nat. I’m sure you did some truly terrible things, and you are right to feel ashamed of them, but the person who committed those crimes is not the person you are now. This person, right here, in my arms, is who you are. You overcame your conditioning, you remade yourself into the woman you were meant to be. Someone who could care, who could love. Someone who wants to protect others, rather than destroy them. You had the strength to turn away from the path you were forced to take. I admire that about you, more than anything.”

I ran my fingers through her hair, humbled by the miraculous gift of her acceptance. “You are the most extraordinary, understanding, forgiving person I have ever known,” I marvelled. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you…”

She laughed softly. “The mind and soul stones brought us together. I think that makes as good an argument as any for us being soulmates. We were meant to be, Nat. I have waited my whole life for you, and it will take a lot more than the skeletons in your closet and a psychotic scientist to come between us.”

“Even if I have to kill him?” I asked sombrely.

She grimaced. “Even then, if that’s what you have to do, although I hope you’ll at least consider other alternatives. I mean, what he did to you was terrible, but killing him won’t change it.”

“This isn’t about me,” I insisted, frustrated. “You don’t get it, Mel! He is a _threat_. Not just to me, or you, but to everyone!”

“Nat, he’s just one psychopath,” she said in reassuring tones, but I was in no mood to be soothed. I had avoided confrontation on this point long enough, out of fear of what it might lead to, and now that obstacle had been surmounted, I was nettled at my own cowardice. I had to make her, all of them, understand the danger I could sense lurking in the shadows.

“Is he, though?” I said, keeping my voice low with an effort. “Is he just one psychopath? Don’t you remember what he said in Scotland? He said he represented an interested party. He took you to the Red Room, which means he works for the KGB. The KGB wouldn’t give him the resources to spend a whole year hunting you down, just for his own research. Whatever he was going to do with you, he was doing because they wanted it. So ask yourself, what does an organisation run by the most ruthless, power-hungry bastards on the planet, want with someone like you?” I felt her blanch, taken aback by my candour, but I continued my train of thought before she could venture a protest. “There are only two real possibilities. Either they wanted to turn you, make you work for them; or they wanted to experiment on you, to see if your abilities could be replicated. Either way, they are clearly looking to get an enhanced person under their thumb. It doesn’t take an idiot to guess why.”

She tensed. I felt her start to tremble and held her more tightly while I carried on expounding my argument. “Regular killers aren’t enough for them anymore. Not with the Avengers around, free to poke our noses in wherever we see fit, the whole world under our protection. The best they’ve got are no match for us if we get called in to put a stop to their plans. They need new blood. They want firepower. Badly enough that they pulled an agent out of an assignment at the Home Office to send him after you. Not me, _you_.” I hated to scare her, but I was desperate for her to grasp the gravity of the situation. “Have you have any idea how difficult it is to get an operative into a place like that? It would have been a significant investment, years of time, effort and a serious amount of money, and yet they pulled him out to send him after you. And if Fury hadn’t already suspected him, we’d have been none the wiser. I’m guessing he had orders to determine if you were there, maybe try to lure you out somehow. There’s probably agents we _don’t_ know about staking the place out as we speak, just waiting for an opportunity. The Home Office fellow might even have been a gambit, to throw us off the scent, or send us a message. Either way, my point is, they are throwing some serious resources into this. What does that tell you?”

She shivered. “They wouldn’t go to so much effort just to pay us back for burning down the Red Room, would they? There’s something else going on. A bigger plan.”

“Exactly,” I replied triumphantly. “I think we did more than just deprive them of a valuable facility. I think we unwittingly interrupted some major project they have underway. That’s why there’s been no sign of activity for months. Whatever they were doing, we forced them to start over. But now they are starting to move again. And the fact that Goravitch is high ranking enough for that Home Office spy to be reporting to him makes me really, really nervous.”

She nodded slowly. “If he’s that high up in their hierarchy, then whatever this project is that he’s looking for enhanced people for, it’s a big deal.”

I nodded emphatically. “Really big. And he’s an evil bastard, so whatever this project is meant to do, I’m betting its aim is not world peace.”

She was silent for a long minute, then she swore under her breath. “I’m sorry, my love. You’re right, we should have listened to you. He _is_ a threat. Him _and_ the KGB. We need to figure out what they’re plotting, and take him out of the equation, asap.”

“That, dearest, is the problem.” I rolled over onto my back, putting a hand over my eyes. Though relieved that she was _finally_ taking my fears seriously, the conversation had left me with a throbbing tension headache, and a feeling of black depression at my helplessness to respond. “The Red Room was the only KGB stronghold we know about; now that it’s gone, we have no idea where to look or listen for trouble. Hell, most people don’t even know the organisation still exists; officially it ceased to be at the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991. We can’t even prove that it’s still alive and kicking, let alone that they have some mad genius dabbling in illegal human experimentation, and we can’t do anything about him ourselves when we don’t know where he is!”

She sighed. “So we’ll find him. Somehow." I sensed her frown, thinking. "Perhaps we need to stop looking for a place, and start looking at the man..." Her voice trailed off.

I raised an eyebrow. "You have an idea?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. I'll think about it." She kissed me. Her fingertips gently massaged my temples. “That’s enough shop talk for one night. We are supposed to be taking a break. Think about something else.”

“Like what?”

I felt her smile as her lips whispered over my skin. Her fingers drifted down my side.

“I might have a few ideas…”


	4. 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fame has its complications.

“This is insane,” Melanie muttered, gazing uncomfortably at the security monitors.

“Safe to say you’re a hit with the public,” Sam commented, grinning.

The scene outside the compound provided ample evidence of that. The usual trickle of curious tourists and diehard fans had swelled to a mob, all cheering and waving wildly at the cameras. There were a lot of makeshift halos out there.

“It’s going to get out of hand soon,” Pepper sighed. “We’re going to have to give them something. I can release a few teasers, buy us a little time until we can set a date for a full reveal…”

Melanie groaned, casting me a pleading look.

I grimaced. I had some major concerns of my own about forcing her into the spotlight, and her glaring dislike of being the centre of attention was the least of my worries.

“I really don’t think a press conference is a priority right now, Pepper -”

“You should have thought of that before you started her trending on U-tube,” Pepper said in exasperation. “There’s no going back, Nat. The public have her in their sights now, this isn’t just going to blow over. This whole programme depends on goodwill. Do I have to remind you what happens when public opinion turns sour?”

I pulled a face. “You do not.” The Sokovia Accords had been the outcome of the last backlash we had experienced. The assumption of UN control over our activities had torn our team apart, not to mention given a ruthless mercenary the opportunity to bomb the summit in Vienna. For now that debacle, plus the general attitude of overwhelming gratitude towards the Avengers for putting an end to the Decimation and returning the vanished, currently gave us an unprecedented upper hand over the myriad government agencies who wanted a hand on our reins. For the moment, world leaders were resigned to our nominal independence, reluctantly agreeing that total neutrality was for the best. Any country was free to appeal to us for help, and we were equally free to decline should we feel their request was immoral, unethical or otherwise unreasonable. Maria delivered a report to the World Security Council at regular intervals, but other than that, they refrained from attempting to dictate our actions, content to let us protect the world as we saw fit, as long as we didn’t push the privilege too far. I did _not_ want that precious autonomy threatened, even if it did make us a target. I vastly preferred us to be seen as a threat, and be free to act, than be hamstrung by a committee.

“Fine,” I sighed. “Do what you need to do. But be careful what information you release, Pepper. Remember we still have a psychopath on the loose. The last thing we need is to give our enemies a full diagnostic of what she is and is not capable of.”

“The healing thing is definitely centre stage at the moment,” Pepper commented. “We’re going to have to give out _some_ details about what she can and can’t do, unless you want every terminally ill person within a thousand miles banging on the door, begging for a miracle cure. We’re already receiving hundreds of requests from medical facilities around the globe begging her to come visit.”

Melanie looked like she was going to break and run.

I grimaced, and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Okay, that’s not happening. Spread the word she can only heal fresh injuries. Or better yet, imply that the reports from Indonesia were exaggerated, and she doesn’t heal so much as keep the damage from getting any worse until proper medical help arrives. Stress the fact that she has no medical training, and without such expertise she is likely to do more harm than good. Removing a chunk of a patient’s brain as well as a tumour for example. We can’t let people know the full extent of what she’s capable of, or we’ll be swamped. And I don’t care what sob story they come out with, she is _not_ going out to heal anyone who turns up begging on our doorstep.” As several already had, much to everyone’s distress.

“No-one?” Sam asked a little mutinously, as Melanie looked wretched.

“No-one,” I said firmly. Melanie and I had already discussed this at length, and though it pained her deeply, she was pragmatic enough to know I was right. “I hate the thought of turning them away as much as you do, but we have to be practical. If she performs even one healing on demand, it will open up the floodgates. In no time at all, we’ll be inundated, she’ll be burnt out before she can help even a fraction of them, and what are we supposed to tell them then? And if we even try to help some, how are we supposed to choose? What right do we have to say who deserves to live, and who doesn’t? Not to mention any of them might be an enemy agent looking to lure her out. No,” I laid down the law decisively. “No doorstep healings. That’s final.”

Pepper nodded thoughtfully, making a note on her tablet. “I’ll release a statement. But that may not be our only problem. I’m almost certain there’ll be some kind of backlash from across the pond. As soon Mel opens her mouth, the British are going to realise she’s one of theirs. They aren’t going to be happy to lose her to us. They could try coming up with reasons to have her extradited. It won’t take long before they connect her with the hospital incident in Edinburgh six years ago.”

Melanie looked even more miserable at that. I put my arm around her protectively.

“Anything you can do to head off trouble from that direction?” I asked Pepper. I was confident she would have ideas. She was a master at this sort of manipulation, the natural consequence of having to smooth over all the ridiculous things Tony had done over the years.

She looked smug. “I already did. I have an official statement already drafted, the Stark Relief Foundation can cover any compensation, but in case they want to take things further, I was on a conference call to the Foreign Secretary and the Secretary of State for over an hour this morning. They were so impressed by your good work in Indonesia, the government has agreed to declare official amnesty for any past misdemeanours, and to extend US citizenship to all members of the Avengers who don’t already have it.”

“ _What_?” Melanie gasped.

“You heard. You and Wanda are now officially residents of the US of A, which means the British can gnash their teeth all they want. They can’t lay a finger on you without your consent.”

I grinned. “Great work, Pepper.”

Melanie looked aghast. “I’m an _American_? No way. Do I have to start calling a car boot a trunk, or saying tom-ay-to instead of tomato…?”

Everyone laughed.

I squeezed her affectionately. “Yeah, I wasn’t that sold on the idea either.” I pulled a face. “Imagine the horror of having to be a citizen of a country that thinks it’s acceptable to ruin perfectly good vodka with Coca-Cola!”

She chuckled. “When did you get US citizenship?” she asked curiously.

“A couple of years after I joined Shield.” I rolled my eyes. “It was Nick’s idea of a _reward_ , believe it or not…”

“ _Nick_?” Sam repeated with a smirk. “Since when did Fury become _Nick_?”

I turned towards him, only to find myself confronting Maria, who had her hands on her hips and a steely glint in her eye.

“Are you sure you two never -?” she began, her voice dangerously smooth.

“Jesus, no, no, and hell no,” I cut her off her accusation before she could finish. My lips twitched. “Green isn’t your best colour,” I murmured under my breath, so softly no-one else could hear.

She narrowed her eyes at me but said nothing.

Inwardly chuckling that a long-held suspicion had just been confirmed, I raised my voice again and added, “Fury has always been more of a father figure to me. Besides, he was my boss, that would have been way too complicated for my taste.”

“Mel seems to manage,” Sam observed with another smirk.

Melanie laughed. “She’s only my boss out here. Behind closed doors is a whole different story!”

He wrinkled his nose. “Too much information!” he replied in mock disgust.

I made an aggravated noise. “Do you mind? Get your head out of the gutter. Where were we?”

“Making an American out of Mel,” Pepper said, smiling.

Melanie groaned.

“Only on paper, sweetie,” Pepper told her comfortingly. “In reality, you are still your thoroughly Scottish self. Which reminds me, we need to work on your look. I can’t take you in front of a press conference like _that_.”

Melanie looked down at herself self-consciously, and I hid a smile. My lover was singularly uninterested in fashion, and the only variation in her general attire was the colour of shirt she chose to go with her jeans – today a green and black plaid affair. That the public had certain expectations when it came to her physical appearance had not yet crossed her mind, and I braced myself for an explosion. “What did you have in mind?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’ll put together a team to get started on your suit right away. I’ll schedule you in a meeting tomorrow.”

As I expected, Melanie looked horrified. “A _suit_? What, like superhero, underpants on top suit? Oh, no, no…”

“Oh, yes, yes,” she said firmly. “Although we’ll keep your underwear underneath if you don’t mind.” Her lips twitched.

“ _Nat_ …” Melanie pleaded.

I supressed my amusement. “Everyone has a suit,” I reminded her. “You’re an Avenger now, it comes with the job.”

“I resign,” Melanie growled.

I laughed. “No you don’t. You want to be able to go on missions, don’t you? Did you think I was going to keep sending you out in that commando gear?” As she didn’t have a suit of her own, I had ordered her to kit herself out in one of the ground team field suits for the trip to Indonesia, including body armour. Mercy mission or not, there was no way I was letting her out of this compound unprotected. Now she had a fully-fledged identity of her own, however, it was definitely time for something more bespoke.

Melanie scowled. “Why not? It was reasonably comfy, if a bit heavy, and at least it didn’t scream ‘look at me, I’m a super hero!’. I’m not going to run around in multicoloured tights like something from a comic book convention!”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you see any of us running around in multicoloured tights?” I asked pointedly. I looked around at the others. “Have any of you guys been told to wear your underpants on top of your clothes?”

They shook their heads, grinning.

“You know what I mean,” Melanie snapped crossly. “I’ll look an idiot!”

“Are you saying we look idiots?”

“No, but… but…” Melanie looked almost ready to cry. Taking pity on her, I pulled her gently into my arms. I knew it wasn’t so much the idea of the suit itself that was bothering her, as everything else that went with it. The idea of being instantly recognisable, of being hailed as a real, official superhero, terrified her. “How about if I promise to make it up to you?” I murmured in her ear.

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Blackmail,” she whispered back, but she couldn’t help a quick smile before she dragged her features back into a frown.

“Fine,” she said grumpily, giving in with bad grace. “I’ll meet with the designers. But you better warn them I will _disintegrate_ the first person who tries to stick me in wings and a halo!”

“Done,” Pepper agreed, smiling. “The chopper will be here for you at 9am sharp.” She turned to me. “If there’s nothing else for now, I’d better go brief the PR team.”

“Go for it,” I agreed. “Thanks for your help, Pepper.”

“You’re welcome.” She walked away, heading for the landing platform where her helicopter was waiting, already frowning over her tablet.

Melanie sighed, her eyes back on her new fan club massing outside. At least the current mob seemed to be entirely formed of admirers rather than unfortunates begging for healing, but that didn’t seem to ease her mind much. I knew she was not looking forward to the next few weeks one bit. I sympathised with her plight. Fame had never agreed with me either. Not being as iconic as Tony or Bruce or Steve, my own fanbase had been relatively small compared to theirs, but it had still given me a few shocks. I remembered how disturbing it had been after the battle of New York, walking into a store to find myself queueing up behind a guy who had a full colour tattoo of my face on his shoulder…

“It will calm down,” I told her softly. “It’s crazy at first, but sooner or later you become a familiar face, old news, and the hype dies down.”

“I guess I didn’t realise quite what I was letting myself in for,” she murmured.

I pulled her closer. “If it’s worth anything, it means a lot to me that you’re willing to do all this, to be with me.”

She smiled. “It’s worth a lot,” she murmured back, resting her head contentedly on my shoulder. “Ah well. I already decided I was willing to die or be tortured for you. I guess this is slightly less painful than that.” She pulled a face. “Slightly.” She twisted to look into my face. “So what are you going to be doing while I’m locked in with the design team?” she asked resignedly. She didn’t ask me to accompany her, aware that I preferred not to expose myself in a public place unless absolutely necessary. I could disguise myself of course, but it wasn’t really worth the risk. After six months in training, she was perfectly capable of defending herself, and I doubted even the KGB would be up to the task of kidnapping an enhanced from a helicopter, or from the middle of a highly secure research and development building. Besides, she knew I had more important things on my mind.

My expression darkened as I considered her question. “It’s time we found out more about who we’re dealing with. Goravitch knows more about us than we do about him, and I’m not prepared to put up with that any longer. I’m going to track down our rogue scientist if I have to hack every blasted computer in Europe to do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is coming in dribs and drabs at the moment, I've got a ton of stuff in the rough and am slowly polishing it, so please bear with me. I've been working on this fic for more than a year now, so at least posting it is finally giving me a kick up the bum to finish it! Please let me know what you think, constructive criticism always welcome.


	5. 5.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very bad plan.

“This is hopeless!”

I threw myself down in a chair, exhausted from the endless circles my thoughts had walked, the countless miles up and down the room my feet had paced. I could see dark circles under my eyes in the reflection in the dark windows. Maria sighed and shooed away the last weary assistants, dismissing them to their well-earned rest.

We had spent the last fortnight scouring every network and database we could think of, in every country Goravitch could conceivably have spent time in, trying to find even the tiniest clue as to who he was and where he had come from, in the hope that building up a profile of him might illuminate some possible avenue of investigation that might lead us to his hiding place. Maria had handpicked a team of researchers to assist, and they had attacked the task with admirable dedication. All of us had put in far more hours than was healthy in front of the monitors, but it was all for nothing. We were all out of ideas, and the amount of tangible information we had on Goravitch was still a big fat zero.

“It’s like he’s a phantom,” said Sam from the corner, slumped so low in his seat that his head was barely visible.

I chewed my lip in frustration. “It’s like the Winter Soldier all over again.”

“Worse,” Sam yawned. “We had more information on Bucky Barnes than we do about this guy. At least we knew where Bucky came from, when he was born, basic stuff like that. We can’t even find a record of Goravitch’s birth! If I hadn’t seen him with my own eyes, I’d say he was a figment of your imagination.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but before I could return a sarcastic comment, the comm system beeped.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Wanda’s voice came over the speaker. “But Nat, Mel says if you don’t all come and get some dinner, she’s going to march up there and disintegrate all your computers.”

I couldn’t help but smile, amusement lightening my grim mood for a moment. Melanie was like a mother hen sometimes, or maybe a mother bear might be a better comparison. She could get downright fierce if she felt we were working ourselves too hard, which was often. I glanced at the clock and winced. It was nearly eleven pm. We had been shut up in this room since just after breakfast. No wonder Mel was furious.

“All right, Wanda. We’re done here anyway. Tell Mel to keep her hair on, we’ll be right down.”

“You’d better. She’s made chilli.”

“Ooh,” Sam shot out of his chair, heading eagerly for the door. “We’ll be right there. I love Mel’s chilli!”

Chuckling, Maria and I followed him, shutting off the monitors and the lights as we left.

A delicious aroma greeted us as soon as we opened the door to the residence wing.

Melanie was dishing up the food. Bruce and Rhodes were already at the table, piling chilli and rice onto their plates.

Sam slid into a seat and grabbed a fork, sniffing enthusiastically. “Mel, you really are an angel. Like the angel of awesome cooking.”

She smiled. “Help yourself, there’s plenty.” She moved to my side and wrapped an arm around my waist, tilting her face expectantly. I chuckled and obediently kissed her.

“How was your design consultation today?” I asked her in Gaelic.

She pulled a face, and answered in the same tongue. “Endless as usual. I thought I’d never get out of there.”

I laughed.

“So how’s the suit coming?” Rhodes asked her teasingly as we sat down. “They need to get a move on, you realise Pepper had to set up a whole new team to field the calls coming in from the merchandising industry? They’re desperate for visuals so they can get you on a lunchbox…”

I helped myself to food, shaking my head in amusement.

Melanie glowered and pointed a fork at him warningly. “One more word, and I never cook again.”

Sam gave a theatrical groan of dismay. “Rhodey, leave her alone! Please! I cannot go back to the prospect of your endless fry-ups!”

Rhodes swelled indignantly.

“How did your meeting with the Home Office go?” Maria cut in firmly before the two of them could start their usual bickering.

Rhodes subsided, and cast me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Nat. I tried, but they aren’t convinced. The Russians have been very quiet since the Snap, and the Russian government is still flat-out denying that the KGB is still in existence. Plus they’re going to be hosting the International Peace Conference in Moscow later this year. Without any proof of a current threat, our lot are very reluctant to poke that hornet’s nest with a stick.” He rolled his eyes. “To be honest, I had a hard time getting them to discuss it at all. They mostly wanted to talk about Mel; they’re pretty miffed we recruited a new enhanced without telling them.”

Melanie winced, and Rhodes shot her a reassuring smile. “Hey, don’t worry sister, I got your back,” he told her, piling an improbable amount of chilli on a tortilla chip. “I got them calmed down. But I’m afraid to say, Nat,” he added, turning back to me, “that they’re dying to get a closer look at her. They’re very keen on the idea of us getting together with the military for some joint training exercises, so I said I’d run the idea past you.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t see why not. They can run exercises on a much larger scale than we can, it will give you guys a good workout. Wouldn’t be a bad thing to stay on cordial terms with the armed forces, remind them we are on the same side.”

“Providing we don’t beat them too badly,” Maria remarked sardonically.

Bruce shuddered. “Count me out. I’m never going to be bosom buddies with the military. They spent too much time chasing me with helicopters.”

“Fair enough,” I allowed. “I don’t think you need to be involved. Or the part-timers either,” I added, referring to Pepper and Clint. “Rhodey, Sam, and Wanda should be more than enough to keep them busy. And Mel, obviously, once her suit is finished, so they can satisfy their curiosity.” I smiled sweetly as she mouthed at me. “I’ll leave it to you and Maria to organise then,” I said to Rhodes.

He grunted in assent, his mouth too full to answer.

“I take it you guys still haven’t had any luck tracking down Goravitch,” Wanda remarked, changing the subject.

I scowled as Maria grimaced and Sam groaned. “Zip. We’ve run out of places to look. It’s like he doesn’t exist. There’s no record of him at all. It makes no sense!”

“It makes perfect sense,” Melanie said calmly. “Obviously, he exists, so the only reason there can be for why you can’t find anything is if everything on him has been erased.”

I froze, a forkful of chilli halfway to my mouth.

Maria looked from me, to Melanie, and back again. “She’s right,” she said, chagrined. “That makes perfect sense.” 

“Well damn!” Sam tossed his fork down in his dish in disgust. He glared at Melanie. “Couldn’t you have come out with that before we spent two weeks locked in that room?” he demanded grumpily.

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously not, as the only reason I thought of it is because you can’t find anything. Besides,” she added sweetly, “I’ve been distracted. It’s not my fault I’ve been forced to debate colour schemes when I could have been helping you.”

“Don’t start,” I told them both wearily. Sometimes I felt like I was playing parent to a fractious group of siblings. “Mel’s right. Of course that’s why we can’t find anything.” I glowered at my food. We had had zero luck locating the crazed scientist in the present, and now we had hit another dead end trying to find out about his past. The only avenue left was to wait and see what move he made in the future, and by then it might be too late…

“Too bad we don’t still have a time machine,” Rhodes remarked, stirring the remains of his chilli moodily. “I bet the Red Room would have had all the dirt on him. We could have gone back in time to before we burned it down…”

Bruce shook his head. “We have the machine, but without the Pym Particles it may as well be a piece of modern art,” he said. “Steve used the last of the particles on his trip to put the infinity stones back, and since Pym himself returned only to have a heart attack, and left no records of his formula, there’s no way to get more…”

Melanie abruptly choked on her mouthful.

We all stared at her.

“Mel?” I said, puzzled.

She coughed and cleared her throat. “Nothing,” she said, looking inordinately guilty. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I frowned. “Do you know something?” I asked suspiciously.

“No,” she said innocently. Too innocently. Melanie had to be one of the worst liars I had ever beheld. Usually I found that endearing. Before I could confront her, however, Bruce beat me to it.

“My god,” he breathed, staring at her as though seeing her for the first time. “The Pym Particles, the time machine… I can’t believe I didn’t see it before! I was so blown away by the whole healing thing, I never even thought to ask!”

Melanie went beetroot red. The rest of us looked at each other.

“Think about what before?” Rhodes demanded, baffled. “Ask what?”

Bruce pointed at me. “The only reason she managed to heal Nat was because she got to her within minutes of her death.”

“Yeah, so?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “So, she died while back in time! In 2014! So obviously, somehow, Mel had to go back in time herself to get to her!”

Their jaws dropped as they realised what he was getting at.

“You used our time machine?” Sam said to Melanie indignantly. “Without even asking?”

She raised her hands defensively. “Of course I used your machine! How do you think I did it? What did you think, I was taking a tour around the universe, just happened to be passing Vormir when a gorgeous redhead threw herself off a cliff and thought, oh, poor thing, I’ll just take her back to Earth and see if I can put her back together?”

“Well… I guess so, yeah,” Sam confessed sheepishly.

She forced a laugh. “Thanks, but no. I’m good but I’m not _that_ good. Interstellar travel is not in my skill set.”

Bruce stared at me reproachfully. “I can’t believe _you_ didn’t tell us.”

“Don’t look at me,” I said hotly. “I had nothing to do with it! I was dead, in case you’d forgotten!”

“Woah, woah, woah, time out,” Maria interjected firmly, making a T with her hands. “Bruce, you said Steve used the last of the Pym Particles. So how did _you_ get hold of them?” she asked Melanie. “How did you even know about the machine in the first place?”

Melanie sighed and looked at me. “I take it you didn’t tell them the whole story of how I met you.”

I shrugged. “Wanda knows. She got it out of my head the first hour I was here. I assumed she told them.”

We both looked at her.

Wanda shook her head. “It wasn’t my story to tell.”

“What has that got to do with our time machine?” Rhodes demanded.

“Oh for god’s sake, you lot are as bad as her,” Wanda said in exasperation, waving at me. “You all ask the wrong questions. Has it not occurred to any of you to ask _why_ Mel would hijack the time machine to save Nat?”

Melanie flushed redder and hurriedly stood up to take the empty chilli dish to the sink.

The others just stared from Wanda, to me, to Melanie’s uncomfortable back, identical expressions of bewilderment on all their faces.

Wanda made an aggravated noise. “You’re all hopeless,” she said in disgust. “You really think she would go through all that to save some stranger? She was already in love with her!”

“But you said you met her on the island,” Rhodes protested to me.

I sighed. “I said I met _her_ on the island. She had been watching me for a long time before that.”

“What? What was she, your _stalker_?” Sam exclaimed, looking at Melanie and sounding slightly revolted.

“Something like that,” she muttered, not turning around.

“ _Not_ like that,” I snapped, irritated.

She just shrugged.

I sighed and explained, since she obviously didn’t want to. “She was here the whole time. During the Decimation. She was one of the vanished, but because of her powers, she didn’t vanish all the way like you did. She was floating around, a collection of atoms, like a ghost, the whole five years. She followed the mind stone here, and she watched us,” I smiled crookedly, “watched _me_ , all that time. All those years I was rattling around in here by myself most of the time, and I didn’t know I had company…”

“Jesus,” Sam mumbled, eyes wide.

“Wow,” Bruce breathed. “So that’s how you knew how to work the machine. You were here when we built it. But where did you get the Pym Particles? The ones Tony and Steve brought back were in a locked case, I dug it out of the mud after the battle, there were only three vials left, and Steve needed all of them to put the stones back…”

Melanie looked up at the ceiling, rubbing her arms in discomfort, her back still turned to us. I wondered why she was so reluctant to tell this part of her story. I had to hand it to her, she was adept at avoiding conversations she didn’t want to have. Even I had been so caught up in the miracle she had engineered that I had been diverted from asking how she had got to me in the first place…

“I got the Pym Particles during the battle,” she said finally. She still didn’t turn around, directing her words to the wall. “Bruce clicked his fingers, and here I was, not that any of you had time to notice. Thanos’ ship blew up the building before you realised I was here. I told Nat… that I spent most of the battle digging myself out of the rubble…” Her shoulders slumped. “I lied.”

“Now wait just one second!” Rhodes erupted. “You were _here_ , and you didn’t fight? You went digging for Pym Particles while we were laying our lives on the line, trying to save the universe? Tony _died_ to turn Thanos and his army into dust, when you could have done it with a wave of your hand?”

I winced in sudden understanding.

Melanie took a deep breath and turned around. A tear trickled down her cheek as she met their accusing stares.

“What did I care for the rest of the universe?” she said simply. “My universe was already gone.”

The remembered desolation in her expression made my heart ache. Shifting uncomfortably, I made a sharp gesture to Rhodes. He shut the mouth he had just opened to continue haranguing her, looking mutinous.

She looked away, hugging herself as though his sudden coldness chilled her to the bone. “I couldn’t have made any difference, you know,” she said tightly. “I’m not a fighter, and I’m not powerful enough to defeat Thanos, whatever you might think. Not now, and certainly not then. I hadn’t figured out a fraction of what I could do at that point. I’d had my powers a grand total of ten hours before I got dusted. I didn’t have a clue what I was capable of, other than moving stuff around. Plus, I was pretty much out of my mind.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her face twisting with remembered grief. “Nat was gone. All I could think about was getting to the time machine, that if I could just go back, I could stop her…”

“But you couldn’t,” Bruce said blankly. “Barton said it couldn’t be undone. Even if you could, the machine was in a million pieces…”

She laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I know. I found the case with the Pym Particles first. There were four vials, so I stole one. But then I found the machine. Or what was left of the machine…” She swallowed hard. “I… lost it then. I just gave up. There was no point being alive, being real again, when she was gone. Some of those monster alien things found me, and I didn’t even bother to defend myself. I just stood there, staring at the pieces of the machine. I was about two inches shy of being shredded when Tony did his thing and they dissolved into ash. He saved my life, and I just crawled away into the rubble and wished I had died…”

Abruptly I stood up and went to her, pulling her into my arms. She buried her face in my neck, trembling.

“It’s okay,” I whispered soothingly.

She smiled gratefully, and swallowed a lump in her throat. She continued her story, my arms still around her, bolstering her with my unquestioning support.

“I hid out in the rubble for a while. I didn’t know what else to do, where else to go. When you came back to comb over the wreckage, retrieve what you could, I watched you. I listened to you talk about how you were going to rebuild the machine, so you could put the stones back and restore the timelines, and I came up with a new plan. If you were going to rebuild the machine, then once you did, I could use it. I had the Pym Particles. All I had to do was make sure I was on the spot.”

“You couldn’t have been there,” Bruce protested. “I supervised the whole thing, I don’t remember ever seeing you. No way would I forget your face!”

Melanie smiled. “Well, I had figured out a few more tricks by then.” She ran a hand over her hair. I nearly pushed her away in shock. Her shining golden locks turned deep brown in a wave that followed the motion of her hand. Looking into her face, my jaw dropped as her blue eyes shifted and became hazel. It was amazing how much of a difference those two simple colour changes made.

She scraped her hair back into a ponytail. “Recognise me now?” she said lightly.

Wanda whooped and laughed, clearly delighted. Even she hadn’t known she could use her powers this way.

Bruce made a strangled sound, his eyes wide. “You were one of the technicians…”

“I didn’t know you could do that!” I gasped, astounded.

She shrugged apologetically. “Pigments are molecules too,” she said, as though that explained everything. She let her hair back down and shook her head vigorously, returning to her usual colouring, much to my relief. Seeing her as a brunette, without those beautiful blue eyes I loved so much, just felt… wrong. Although I had to admit, it was a skill I would dearly love to have. So much easier than messing around with hair dye as I had been forced to do every time I needed to assume a new identity.

I frowned. “Why the hell didn’t you mention this when we were worried about you getting recognised in Scotland?” I demanded. “Goravitch might never have found you!”

She looked embarrassed. “I don’t like doing it. I don’t feel like me. And I thought I was safe with you, so I didn’t think I needed to.”

She looked back at Bruce. “I posed as one of your technicians. Helped you rebuild the machine. I stole a suit and a timepiece, but you were the only one with the co-ordinates and its not like I could get you drunk or something to get them out of you. So when Steve was getting ready to go, I used some of my Pym Particles to shrink and hitch a ride, inside _his_ time suit. So when he went to Vormir, he took me with him.”

For a long moment everyone just gaped at her.

Then Sam whistled. “You have got some _balls_ , girl!” he said admiringly.

“But wait, wait, hang on,” Maria interjected, shaking her head. She fastened a frown on Melanie’s face. “If there were four vials of Pym Particles, and Steve used up three, and you used up one, we’re still no better off. There are still none left.”

Melanie grimaced. “Well actually… there are. Thanks to the Red Skull, or the soul stone... I'm honestly not quite sure how it happened actually, that part is a bit of a blur... but neither Nat nor I used the quantum tunnel for our return trip. We were just,” she snapped her fingers, “there, on the island, in a flash. Nat’s timepiece and vial of particles were completely destroyed when she hit the rocks, but mine were – are – still intact. There were enough particles left for one more trip.” She avoided my eyes. “I buried them, on the island. I can fetch them. And with an example to study, I can determine the molecular blueprint, and recreate the formula. It might take a bit of work, but eventually, we should be able to make as many Pym Particles as we want. If we want to.”

“Awesome!” Sam crowed. “We can make the time machine work again! And this time I get to have a turn!”

“Hold the phone!” I snapped sharply, alarmed. “Just because we _can_ make it work, doesn’t mean we should! I don’t know about you guys, but I did _not_ have a good experience with time travel!”

Melanie nodded seriously. “You saw what happened last time,” she pointed out. “You ended up with another version of Thanos to fight, and nearly got the entire universe rewritten. Meddling in time is dangerous.”

“But we wouldn’t need to change anything,” Sam argued. “We just need information, right?”

“Right,” Rhodes agreed enthusiastically. “All we need to do is get access to the Red Room’s files, before we burned it to the ground. A quick raid, find everything they’ve got on Goravitch, then come back. Simple.”

“No!” Bruce and I spoke at the same time.

I glanced at Bruce in surprise.

He shrugged with a grimace. “Mel is right. It’s too dangerous. We’ve already done enough damage, mucking about with the time stream.”

“Hang on a minute,” Rhodes protested. “I thought you said last time that there was no way we could make any difference? That the movies were all bullshit? That the present becomes the past which can’t be changed by your new future in the past…” he trailed off, going slightly cross-eyed as he attempted to figure out his own sentence. “Or something like that,” he finished lamely.

Bruce looked troubled. “I did say that, yeah. But that was then, and it was all hypothetical. This is now, and… after doing it, after talking to that sorcerer back in 2012 New York and Dr Strange… I think I was wrong.”

“What?” Sam spoke up, wide-eyed. “So you’re saying Back To The Future _did_ get it right? We could end up in a crazy world where our mum is married to Thomas Wilson?”

“No,” Bruce replied dismissively, looking impatient. “Nothing like that. I _was_ right about that – there’s no way we would change our present for anything drastically different.” He paused thoughtfully. “Think of time like a river, flowing continuously. If you throw in a pebble, it will settle on the riverbed. The water will flow over and around it; something that small won’t change the flow of the river, it will simply become an extra little bump that wasn’t there before. But something bigger, like a boulder, or a landslide, will block the flow. The river won’t be able to continue on the same path, it will be forced to carve out a new one.”

“Creating an alternate reality,” Melanie said, nodding.

“Exactly. An alternate reality we’ll never see, because we’re still tied to our original reality, but will still exist somewhere, and will suffer the consequences of our meddling.”

“So… what’s the problem?” asked Sam, wrinkling his nose in confusion. “If it’s not going to affect us…?”

“That’s like saying go ahead and drop a bomb on Iraq because we don’t live there!” Melanie snapped angrily. “We can’t just go around creating potentially horrific alternate realities in which countless people suffer, just because it won’t affect us personally!”

Sam had the good grace to look embarrassed.

“That’s why Steve had to go put the stones back,” Bruce reminded us. “The Ancient One only let me have the time stone because I promised we would put them all back exactly where and when we took them, restoring the timelines. Otherwise, removing them would have caused chaos. Alternate realities all over the place, and some seriously nasty ones, if she was to be believed. And I wasn’t going to argue with someone who could knock me right _out_ of my body and then have a conversation with my ghost.”

“So how do we figure out what would be a big enough change that it would cause a spin-off reality?” Wanda asked, frowning.

Bruce shrugged. “Without adequate data, its impossible to really speculate, but I imagine a full-scale raid on the Red Room by the Avengers would be a pretty big deal in the scheme of things.”

“So there’s no way we can risk it,” Maria concluded, sighing. She looked as frustrated as I felt. “Damn. The one place we _know_ has exactly what we need, and we can’t go in…” She fell morosely silent.

The unwelcome truth hit me with the force of a lightning bolt.

“You can’t go in,” I found myself saying softly. I slowly raised my head. “But I can.”

“No!” Melanie rounded on me immediately, looking horrified.

I avoided her gaze. “Small changes, Bruce said. Small changes don’t interrupt the flow of time. I was a KGB agent; the Red Room was my territory. And we know Goravitch was there back then. If we pick a year when I was still on their team, I could go in and get what we need without messing with the timestream.”

“No!” Melanie hissed, grasping my arms tight enough to bruise. “You can’t go back there! I won’t let you!”

I gritted my teeth. “It’s the only way.”

“No!”

“Mel –“

“No!” she insisted, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “Its not worth it, Nat! Please! You can’t!”

“Would you prefer me to be a coward?” I asked her softly, looking into her eyes. “We need that information, Mel. We’re up against a brick wall. There’s no other way. If we don’t figure out where he is and what he’s up to, who knows how many people might suffer?”

The tears fell, trickling down her cheeks. “What if I don’t care?” she said brokenly.

I smiled sadly. “You said it yourself, we can’t let innocent people suffer just because it wouldn’t affect us. I can’t turn my back on them.”

Her jaw tightened with sudden resolve. “Then take me with you.”

I recoiled. “What? No! No way! We can’t make big changes, that’s the whole point –“

“So don’t make it a big change,” she insisted. “We don’t have to go in all guns blazing. We’ll do it your way, but take me with you. Tell your superiors you found me and realised my potential, so you’re bringing me in. They want an enhanced; give them one. Make them think I might serve them, that should keep me safe enough. And while I keep them distracted, you can find what we need.”

I frowned. I had to admit, her idea had merit, but it was absurdly dangerous. “No,” I said again, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Mel, it’s a good idea in theory, but it would never work. You’re just not a good enough liar to pull off an undercover job. They’ll smell a rat before we’ve been there ten minutes. Plus you’re too old for a trainee, there’s no guarantee they would send you to the Red Room, or even decide you were worth turning. They might just hand you straight to Goravitch to dissect, and I might not be close enough to stop them...” The thought made my heart wrench painfully.

“Nat has a point, Mel,” Maria agreed, looking seriously worried. “But Nat, Mel has a point too. I’m not sure you should go in –“

“I wasn’t asking anyone’s permission,” I growled.

“- But if you’re going to insist on it, then Mel’s right, you shouldn’t go in alone,” Maria concluded grimly.

“I’m not letting Mel anywhere near that place!”

“Then take me.”

I blinked into the sudden silence. All eyes turned to the young woman who sat quietly at the end of the table.

“Take me,” Wanda repeated calmly. “I’m an enhanced. I’m not that much older than a trainee, and I can pass for younger. Take me. Let me be the distraction.”

I stared at her. She gazed back determinedly, nervous but resolute. She had seen my memories. She, more than anyone in this room, knew what she was volunteering for. What she was risking.

Slowly, I sat back down. The silence dragged out. No-one seemed to want to move, or even breathe. All their eyes were on me as I thought it over.

It _was_ a sound plan. Uncovering such a valuable potential asset as an enhanced would give me an excuse to go back to the Red Room, an excuse that would otherwise be difficult to concoct. After I graduated, I had returned to the Red Room only briefly, between missions. It was too dangerous to go there while my doppelganger was in residence, but equally I couldn’t show up while I was supposed to be on assignment without a very, very good reason. There were precious few acceptable excuses for aborting a mission; still fewer that would result in my still being alive and in a position to search the place for information on Goravitch. Taking Wanda might be the only way in. And it would certainly distract my superiors’ attention away from me, which would hopefully enable me to find what we needed all the more quickly. If all went well, we could be in and out within a very short space of time. But if anything went wrong…

 _Then we’ll abort_ , I told myself firmly. I would not allow Wanda to suffer the horrors that I had. If I got even a whiff of a suggestion that they were going to hurt Wanda, I would pull the plug. We would be back here in the blink of an eye, safe and out of reach.

I looked at Melanie. Tears were streaming silently down her cheeks. She shook her head, her eyes pleading.

I looked at the others. Sam was fiddling miserably with his fork. Maria and Rhodes looked grim. Bruce appeared nauseated, his broad face even greener than usual. But none of them said anything. It was my call, and mine alone. I knew none of them would ever have asked me to do this. That none of them would blame me for a second if I refused to do it. That no-one would call me a coward.

No-one except me.

I would know I was a coward. And when whatever shit that the KGB was currently planning went down, and people got hurt, it would be on me. Because I could have tried to prevent it, and didn’t, because I was too scared to face my past. Too frightened to go back to the place that haunted my nightmares. How could I ever look my friends in the eye again? How could I look Melanie in the eye, and know that she loved a coward?

I looked at Wanda, silently asking if she was sure.

She saw the question in my eyes, and nodded resolutely. I could see she was afraid, but she was controlling her fear. She was tough, resilient. Street-wise in a way Melanie would never be. She could pull this off.

It was time to stop running.

“All right,” I said quietly. “We’ll do it. Wanda and I will go back to the Red Room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the ages of the Avengers, and Wanda and Natasha in particular, are pretty controversial and there's no definitive answer, so I'm going with a figure that works for my story. In Age of Ultron the twins are frequently referred to as 'kids', so I've chosen to interpret that as them being around 18 years old at that time. That would mean Wanda was 22 when she vanished, so is around 23 at this point. It is therefore perfectly plausible she could be made to pass as a teenager. If anyone has issues with this, sorry about that, but my story my rules!


	6. 6.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melanie and Wanda take on an army. You have to feel sorry for them. The army that is.

It felt good to have a plan, even if it was a plan that no-one felt good about. As much as I dreaded what I intended to do, it was still a relief to have decided on a course of action after all the fruitless searching and waiting.

Much to my frustration, however, the plan had to be put on hold while we dealt with far pettier, but far more immediate, concerns. The entire operation hinged around Melanie’s ability to recreate the Pym particles needed to work the time machine, and unfortunately, Melanie was needed elsewhere.

The morning following our decision to go back in time – after the inevitable exhausting night of ranting, weeping and pleading with me to reconsider – Melanie reluctantly went to retrieve her stolen Pym particles from the island. Analysing their molecular structure was going to be no issue, since she would need to do that anyway to transport them back with her.

However, no sooner had she returned and closeted herself in the lab with Bruce, than Pepper called to say she was on her way with Melanie’s completed suit.

“As soon as you are both happy with it, she wants to call that press conference,” Maria reported.

I groaned. “Really? _Now_?”

Maria shrugged apologetically. “Like she said, boss, there’s no going back. The public want to see their new Avenger. If we don’t keep them happy, it could turn ugly. The last thing we need is to give the authorities a reason to slap restrictions on us. That would be just the sort of opportunity the KGB would take advantage of.”

I winced. “Fair point.” I sighed. Public relations wasn’t exactly my forte, but I could hardly leave Melanie to face such an ordeal without support. “I guess I need to go and help Mel prep for her first confrontation with the press,” I said reluctantly.

“And with the military,” Maria added. “We just received an invitation to join training manoeuvres at a combined forces base in Georgia.”

“Great.” I scowled but nodded in resignation. I _had_ agreed to arranging joint training exercises after all. We couldn’t afford to offend them now by refusing the invitation. “I’ll tell her that too.”

“I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed,” Maria said drily.

I laughed ruefully. She knew full well that joy was _not_ an emotion Melanie would be expressing. Between being forced to facilitate my return to the last place on Earth she wanted me to go, and now the prospect of a media frenzy, fireworks would ensue. It was a good thing I had such good reflexes. There was a lot of stuff in the lab to throw.

“Has Mel at least managed give you the list of materials she needs for the Pym particles?” I asked as an afterthought, as I turned to leave the control room.

Maria nodded, tapping the tablet she held. “She’s just sent me a preliminary list. I’ve had a quick glance, and it’s going to take a few days to source some of them.”

I sighed, turning to leave once more. “Then I guess it’s a good thing Mel will have something to keep her occupied while we’re waiting.”

*****

“Well if you two don’t look like sisters,” I remarked, my eyes travelling admiringly over the contours of Melanie’s new rigout.

Melanie and Wanda exchanged embarrassed smiles.

We were in the main training area of the complex rather than the smaller private gym in the residence wing; the smaller room was fine for a personal workout, but for serious training we needed more space. This area was ideal, a huge space that took up most of the top floor, with high ceilings and a whole array of obstacles and ledges built into the walls. Pepper had turned up shortly before with Melanie’s completed suit, and I had insisted she immediately get kitted up and go through some manoeuvres, to ensure everything was satisfactory and help her get comfortable wearing it. I was allowing no press conferences until I was happy she was adequately protected. To help her feel less self-conscious, I was wearing my own, and, for good measure, I had asked Wanda to suit up as well. I had a feeling her presence more than anything would help Melanie feel more at ease, and, as it turned out, I could not have been more right about that.

My jaw had dropped slightly as they walked in, side by side.

Melanie had coaxed Wanda into accompanying her on her consultation trips, as I couldn’t, and the designers had clearly been inspired by their close relationship. Their outfits were far from identical, but there was still a marked resemblance. They had given her a long coat that flared out at the hips just as Wanda’s did, but instead of red it was a gleaming, burnished gold. A high collar gave her neck some protection from another strangulation attempt. Her limbs were clad in soft ivory rather than Wanda’s black, and her forearms were sheathed in white gauntlets, threaded with gold, that extended into gold fingerless gloves. Her knee-high boots matched the gauntlets.

She looked stunning.

The two of them together, their sense of kinship so artistically transformed into a physical presence, took my breath away.

“The Angel and the Scarlet Witch,” Pepper mused. “Who’d have thought? But it works!”

“It does,” I agreed. Seeing them like this caused me no pangs of doubt anymore. The similarities in their costume were clearly meant to imply they were related, not a couple. I had a feeling the two of them would be considered a unit from this moment on, which was fine by me. They complemented each other perfectly, two sides of the same coin. Pairing them up also had the twin advantages of giving Melanie some moral support, and ensuring she had a bodyguard I trusted to be as fierce in her protection as I was. I glanced at Pepper, smiling. “What do you think, should we include Wanda in the press conference?”

Melanie cast me a profound look of gratitude as Pepper grinned, immediately seeing where I was going with this.

“Brilliant,” she said, gloatingly. “The Scarlet Witch is reunited with her long-lost older sister! This could not be more perfect. The media will love it.”

 _And Goravitch will get the message that I am not the only one he is up against if he wants to make another try for her_ , I added silently.

“So?” Pepper asked her impatiently. “Do you like it?”

Melanie shrugged non-committedly. “It’s alright.”

“That’s Scottish for she loves it,” I translated, smirking.

Melanie rolled her eyes as Wanda laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. But it is surprisingly comfy.”

Pepper beamed. “It should be. It’s made to fit you like a second skin. Plus all the cool gadgets – bulletproof lining, automatic temperature control, pulse and blood pressure monitors, in-built communications, GPS, the works. No offensive capacity,” she added to me as I opened my mouth. “She was very insistent on that point.”

I pressed my lips together but said nothing. Melanie’s distaste for anything that could be considered a weapon bordered on the suicidal in my opinion. I would have felt a lot happier if her suit had a few lethal surprises in case of emergency. But it wasn’t worth arguing about it again.

“But,” Pepper added smugly, “check out what it _does_ do. Show them, Mel.”

Melanie grinned.

My jaw dropped as a wave seemed to ripple across the suit and she vanished from sight.

“Wow,” I said, stunned. I took a step forward, feeling in front of me, and nearly jumped out of my skin as an unseen finger tickled up my spine. Melanie’s laughter echoed out of the empty air to my right. There was a shimmer and she reappeared once more.

“Nano cloaking technology,” Pepper announced proudly. “It’s the same thing as the quinjet uses in stealth mode, only obviously much, much smaller. We figured she can already appear and disappear at will when she transports herself, this just adds an extra dimension. I knew you’d want her to have a few tricks up her sleeve.”

I smiled. “Amazing, Pepper,” I told her gratefully. I could not have designed anything more perfect if I had tried. Transporting herself with her powers was an excellent trick, but it took a tremendous amount of energy and concentration, so she couldn’t use it too often without dangerously over-exerting herself. This wonder of Stark technology complemented her own abilities beautifully, giving her a means to achieve a similar goal without having to expend her own energies.

“So awesome!” Wanda sighed covetously. She glanced hopefully at Pepper, who laughed.

“I suppose your suit is overdue for an upgrade,” she conceded. “I’m not sure about the invisibility thing though…”

“Give her a few more gadgets by all means, but no cloaking,” I said firmly. Wanda flashed me a disgruntled look. “You already have the mind reading thing as an extra,” I pointed out. “If you start showing too many gifts people might start to get scared of you again. If you can both disappear, they might realise it’s technology rather than a gift. If the public realise we have cloaking technology, they’ll start to wonder what we might be hiding from them. They’ll stop trusting us, start fearing us, and the world will start to turn against us again…”

“True,” Pepper agreed, as Wanda sighed dismally in disappointment. She glanced slyly at me. “You’re getting a lot better at the whole PR and propaganda thing.”

I made big eyes at her. “What are you talking about? I was always good at the PR thing. That’s why you made me your personal assistant, remember?”

She snorted at the reminder of when we had first met, when I had been tasked by Fury to keep an eye on the newly emerged Iron Man from within his organisation. “Yeah right. PR skills had nothing to do with it, and for the record, neither did I. _Tony_ made you my personal assistant, expressly against my wishes I might add, after you beat up Happy in his boxing ring.”

I rolled my eyes. “You mean I spent two weeks in Tokyo modelling underwear to give him some motivational eye candy, when all I had to do was wrestle with his chief of security?”

Pepper laughed a little sadly. “Oh don’t you worry, he found the photos in about five seconds. I distinctly remember threatening him with dire consequences if he didn’t get his eyeballs off you. But beating up Happy definitely got you the job. He was always attracted to strong women.”

“That’s why he loved _you_ ,” I reminded her gently.

She smiled, a bittersweet smile.

“All right then,” I said swiftly to Melanie, changing the subject before we could rake up more memories of our losses. “You’ve got a lot of time in the spotlight coming up, not to mention getting up close and personal with the armed forces. You need to be as comfortable in that getup as you are in your jeans. So come on, let’s put it through its paces…”

****

Warriors marched across the plain.

I watched as Melanie and Wanda exchanged grim smiles and squared off to face the invading horde. The objective, a green gemstone the size of a football, glowed on a squat stone pedestal between them.

“I still think you’re mad, setting two girls against an army,” the General huffed to Maria to my right.

I suppressed an amused smile, keeping a straight face, eyes forward.

Pepper had gone ahead with her press conference, and just as she had predicted, the public had gone wild in their enthusiasm for the Angel and Scarlet Witch duo. It had not taken the merchandising industry long to catch on. It had only been a fortnight, and already their faces were plastered on every novelty item imaginable. Which probably contributed to the General’s scepticism – it was hard for him to see the two young women he had just discreetly asked to sign a lunchbox for his eight-year-old daughter as a serious threat. He was about to get a harsh lesson in not judging on appearances.

The response to the reveal had been so overwhelming, Pepper’s team simply couldn’t cope, and to my intense frustration, I had been forced to pull half my own people off their previous assignments to help deal with it. It was amazing how many people it took to answer the avalanche of calls – everything from TV producers begging for the two to come on chat or game shows, to merchandisers demanding sales rights, to magazine editors angling for photoshoots and exclusive interviews. What was even more bewildering was the fact that none of them seemed in the least bit daunted by the fact that their answer for the most part was ‘no’. Even when an exasperated assistant had spent no little time and breath arguing them off the phone, they would be back on the line a short time later, probing to see if by speaking to a different person they could get a different answer. There was a poll going around the office with a substantial sum riding on it as to who was going to call up the most.

Even Wanda, who was somewhat inured to fame by this point, was startled by the outpouring of adoration she was suddenly receiving. It was as though the two of them together struck a powerful chord in the public consciousness, and particularly with the younger generation, that neither of them could have achieved separately. Despite the complications, and the appallingly bad timing, I was still thankful we had put them through this together. I was almost certain that Melanie would have cracked by now had she been forced to endure such intense scrutiny alone. With her adopted sister beside her, she seemed to take a far healthier attitude towards it all, able to find the depredations of the media and the antics of her fans amusing rather than mortifying. She had even come back in good spirits from the few photoshoots and interviews we had selectively permitted, the two of them dissolving into fits of laughter as they regaled us with the ridiculous questions they had been asked. The curiosity of the masses seemed to focus less on their powers, which people seemed to accept with amazing detachment, and more on trivial details such as what they wore beneath their suits. They both charmingly deflected such personal questions, and our heavy security thankfully prevented the unscrupulous from violating their privacy. With the sanctuary of the compound to retreat to, and Rhodes, Sam and their team of security shielding her against being mobbed outside of it, Melanie had admitted to me in strict confidence that being famous wasn’t as bad as she had feared, although she complained she was going to get carpal tunnel if she didn’t get a break from having to sign everything in sight.

The media hype was thankfully starting to die down slightly, and I was hoping we might be able to actually get back to preparing for our appointment with the past, when Maria had reminded me about our play date with the military. Grinding my teeth, I had suppressed the desire to tell them to do something biologically impossible, and got my team together to go through the necessary preparations.

We had arrived at the combined forces base in Georgia to find the place buzzing with excitement. All the media coverage had made them even more desperate to get a closer look at our newest recruit, and Wanda was subjected to as much scrutiny as if she hadn’t been an Avenger for years.

Several high-ranking officials were present, with squadrons of troops and a bewildering array of support vehicles, all eager for the challenge of taking on the Avengers. Rhodes and Sam had spent the morning mopping up a combination of air force and navy in grand style, much to my delight and much to the chagrin of the unit commanders. Now the air was almost humming with anticipation, as Wanda and Melanie faced off against units of US army and marines.

The objective was simple, retrieve the gemstone – a theatrical piece of multi-faceted Perspex created for the occasion, embedded with miniscule green lights that gave it a suitably eerie alien appearance. Melanie and Wanda had to defend it. The match would end when either all units were neutralised, when the army managed to get the gemstone to the edge of the field, or when the timer hit one hour, whichever came first. There were no rules about what tactics were allowed, save that everything had to be non-lethal. The weapons the troops carried were specially adapted to load training rounds, dye cartridges in various colours, allowing any hits, and the unit responsible, to be easily visible.

We had allowed them a full hour to prepare for the exercise, giving the unit commanders a chance to get together and cook up a plan of assault, and get their troops into position. Clearly whatever they had come up with, the General thought it was a winning strategy, as he continued to bluster to Maria and Rhodes about the superior combat training and top-of-the range technical capabilities of his troops and equipment, and the sheer idiocy of expecting two ‘little girls’ to prevail against such overwhelming odds. It probably didn’t help that the girls had just lounged around the pedestal for the entire hour, casually chatting like they were on an outing to the park.

I again suppressed a laugh. Jollity was not appropriate to the current persona that I was affecting.

As I needed to remain incognito, Maria and Rhodes had been fielding all the attention of the officials. Rhodes, of course, already on speaking terms with most of them from his long service in the Air Force, acted as official liaison. Maria, irritable but resigned, resumed the role she had so gratefully palmed off on me, and acted the part of commander of the Avenger’s Initiative to perfection. I stood ‘at ease’ behind Maria’s left shoulder, erect and precise in an immaculate borrowed uniform, a peaked hat pulled low over my eyes, the image of a military aide. A short black wig and a touch of discrete make-up completed my disguise. There was no need for anything more elaborate; high ranking members of the military had a predictable tendency to regard underlings as furniture. None of the officers present so much as glanced at me twice.

I felt Sam move to stand beside me and inclined my head very slightly in his direction.

“How fast do you think the girls are going to decimate that lot?” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth, indicating the mass of men and machinery with a grin.

I rolled my eyes a little. “Hopefully not too fast,” I muttered back, keeping my face straight, “or I think the General might explode.”

He chuckled softly in response. I knew he was just as irritated as I was at the man’s condescending attitude, and was eagerly looking forward to the girls taking the wind of his sails.

Out on the field, the troops completed staging and at an unseen signal, began to move forward.

“Going for the whole pincer routine I see,” Sam commented.

I narrowed my eyes critically, watching the formation take shape on the huge flat field. There was no cover or terrain to speak of, just a huge meadow of grass with the stone pedestal in the centre, so the commanders had evidently decided to overwhelm the girls by attacking from all sides. Four squadrons of infantry, each accompanied by an armoured vehicle and a couple of jeeps, advanced on the centre, one from each side of the roughly square plain.

The two lonely figures at the centre of the square appeared to confer briefly, taking in what they faced, then moved to stand facing two corners, on opposite sides of the pedestal. Clearly, each of them prepared to defend the gemstone against two full squadrons. They looked ludicrously outmatched from our vantage point over-looking the field, tiny figures of gold and scarlet, against the encroaching tide of machinery and manpower.

“Two squadrons, two tanks and four jeeps against each one of them,” Sam observed. He gave an evil chuckle. “Hardly seems fair.”

My lips twitched, and I bit them to keep from laughing.

The army advanced like a colony of ants, and still the women made no move. I wondered what they were waiting for. They were so still, it was almost as if they were purposefully making themselves easy targets…

With a sudden concussion of noise, the units opened fire, and the instant they did, I realised the error the commanders had made, and the brilliance of Wanda and Melanie’s plan. Both of them shot straight up into the air. The barrage of missiles meant to take them out sailed straight through the space they had occupied, criss-crossing like coloured laser beams and ploughing into the troops on the other side. Men swore as they were splattered with coloured dye under waves of friendly fire, anyone hit falling to the ground as instructed and playing dead. All squadrons stopped shooting hurriedly, but the damage was done.

The girls floated serenely back down and resumed their defensive stance on either side of the pedestal. My heart swelled with pride as I watched them. They were magnificent. I cast a sly glance to my right. The general’s mouth was hanging open, eyes bulging with astonishment. I allowed myself a tiny smirk of satisfaction. I could almost see the image of his daughter’s lunchbox being flattened by the realisation of what he was really looking at – a formidably gifted, well-trained and extremely dangerous pair of women. Alone, either one of them could have put on an impressive show. Together, they were breath-taking. They worked together as a seamless team, appearing to co-ordinate almost by thought alone.

At that moment, as though providing a demonstration, Melanie and Wanda unleashed an attack in perfect unison, though I had seen no visible signal pass between them. They both lunged forward on one foot, gesturing dramatically with both hands. A torrent of red fire poured from Wanda’s hands. Melanie’s cast was invisible, but the result was identical. The four armoured assault vehicles, one on each side, that had been trundling inexorably towards them, lifted into the air. Yells of panic sounded, and I saw the heads of the drivers whipping from side to side in confusion as, with a creaking groan of straining metal, the girls tipped them over in mid-air and laid them down gently on their sides. In my mind’s eye I had no difficulty seeing the explosive crash and burn scenario that could easily otherwise have been the case, had the girls not been rigorously careful to avoid casualties. I was pleased to note, glancing to the side, that the General clearly had no problems with his imagination either. He had gone red in the face, a hue which further deepened to purple as the two women repeated their tactic against the jeeps, taking them out of action as well.

They took up their defensive stance once more.

The groups of remaining infantry milled in confusion for a moment as they pulled out the crews of the downed vehicles, then they rallied and made a rush for the centre. A wall of helmets, pumping limbs and camouflage uniforms converged on the two defenders from all sides.

A splash of scarlet, and the front rank of running figures on Wanda’s side tripped headlong, involving dozens more in the undignified spill as their colleagues behind ploughed into them. On the other side of the field, one of the squadrons screeched to a halt in dismay as their own weapons were jerked out of their hands and turned in mid-air to point at their owners. The line of assault rifles hovered a moment, as though to savour the looks of horrified realisation dawning on their faces, then began to fire.

I pressed my lips together tightly, again struggling to contain laughter. I knew perfectly well that Melanie would never employ such a bloodthirsty tactic in reality, and only did so now because she knew the weapons were harmless. As a demonstration of the carnage she _could_ cause if she felt so inclined, however, it was extremely effective. To my right I heard the General emit a strangled noise as rank after rank fell to ground in disgust, splattered with blue paint.

Busy with mowing down the first legion however, Melanie had allowed the second to close on her. I held my breath as the first charging figures reached her. Melanie glanced to the side, saw the men bearing down on her. There was a flash of gold and she vanished, causing the first in line to fall flat on his face as he made a grab for a target no longer there. She reappeared behind another hapless individual and kicked him in the rear, so that he staggered forward and promptly fell over his comrade.

Meanwhile Wanda had taken advantage of the chaos caused by her first squadron falling on their faces to shred the second, explosions of scarlet fire sending groups of them flying in all directions, only to be caught and deposited gently on the ground. The officials acting as referees conferred momentarily then snapped orders over the comms, ruling that, had Wanda not caught them, they would have been too severely injured to continue fighting. Visibly grumbling, the soldiers stayed down, and more of their comrades soon joined them.

There were still more bearing down on the two defenders however, and the girls were soon hard pressed, although so far neither of them could be budged more than a few feet from the glowing green stone on the pedestal. One man made a brave dive for the prize, and ended up head-butting the pedestal as Melanie caused the turf beneath his feet to slide out from beneath him. Another tried to grab her from behind and I nearly crowed with pride as she executed a beautiful manoeuvre, leaning forward and using his own momentum to tumble him over her shoulder as I had taught her. His friends changed tactics and tried to surround her, then raised a howl of surprise as she vanished again. Her suit mimicked her own abilities so seamlessly that only the tell-tale lack of gold flash told me that technology was at work this time rather than her gift.

Sam sniggered beside me at the soldiers’ outraged yells as they were attacked by an invisible assailant. They tried to fight back, and ended up hitting each other more often than not. Melanie reappeared a short distance away and gestured, causing them to topple, then casually pulled the turf out from beneath another group that rushed her from the opposite direction.

Wanda shouted something to her I couldn’t make out, but the tone was amused. Melanie grinned and performed a graceful reverse somersault onto the pedestal, landing on the edge in time to kick back one valiant survivor who had evaded the tentacles of crimson light Wanda was using to decimate his squadron.

I couldn’t help it, I grinned. Melanie herself had asked me to teach her some of my more acrobatic moves. She admitted to me in private that she had always wanted to be able to flip and somersault like the parkour athletes in internet videos. I had been somewhat dubious, but I knew she was an accomplished climber and many of the skills were transferable, so I had agreed she could try. Her enthusiasm for her hand-to-hand training had markedly increased from that point on. Of course, I had no need to be concerned. The strength, dexterity and flexibility of a climber certainly helped, but her gift was a far superior aid. With that to help her, and the regular hours of practice, she had become an accomplished acrobat in a remarkably short space of time. Only an expert eye would discern the unnatural length of time she hung in the air, a fraction of a second longer than gravity would usually permit, that betrayed the fact that more than muscles were at work. She was unbelievably graceful.

There were only a few stragglers left now. Melanie did a flamboyant forward flip off the pedestal, landing lightly on her feet. She and Wanda stood side by side as the last remnants of the once mighty horde rushed them in a last-ditch attempt to carry off their prize.

The girls raised their hands, and with dismayed yells the soldiers were lifted into the air. They hung there, half suspended by red fire, the other half simply hanging in empty space, all of them kicking and shouting in helpless indignation.

“I think,” Maria said, smiling at the purple-faced officer next to her, “that your army is defeated, General.”

He spluttered in protest, then, surveying the scattered men and machines lying on the ground below, sighed ruefully and smiled. He offered his hand, and Maria shook it.

Down on the field, the girls lowered their captives back to the ground, and exchanged a high five and then a hug. The casualties began to get to their feet and approach the two women, shaking their hands and clapping them on the back in obvious admiration. I saw Melanie wander over to the man who had head-butted the pedestal and who was now sitting with his back to it, looking dazed, his hand held to his forehead. Melanie knelt beside him and placed a hand on his head. I knew he would be up in moments, good as new.

“That was a hell of a show!” the General boomed admiringly. “Never seen anything like it. Would never have believed it, two little girls taking on an army!”

I was extremely glad the two ‘little girls’ were well out of earshot. I didn’t think the General’s pride could take being dangled upside down in front of a large number of his troops, not on top of a string of defeats.

Leaving Maria and Rhodes to deal with the pleasantries, I headed back to the jet to arrange for our departure, Sam strolling at my side. While I felt reasonably confident that our meeting was secure – at least there had been no screaming crowds of spectators – I still felt exposed outside the facility. It had been an excellent day, both in terms of training and in strengthening our always touchy relations with the military, but I was itching to get the jet back in the air. I couldn’t forget that our enemies were lurking out there, looking for any opportunity to pounce. Until we could ascertain Goravitch’s location, and determine what he and the KGB were up to, the compound was the only place I felt truly safe. We had already gone through the interminable round of introductions and small talk with the officers when we first arrived, so there was nothing preventing us from being on our way as soon as possible.

I prepped the jet, and after a while Melanie and Wanda strolled into view, still surrounded by admirers. I shook my head and smiled to myself as they posed for photos and signed autographs. It seemed that a chance to meet the two of them was sufficient consolation prize to ease the ruffled feathers of the troops at any rate. 

Finally shaking off the smitten soldiers, the two women trotted up the ramp, grinning. With a careful glance down the ramp to check nobody was watching, I hugged them both fiercely. “You were amazing today,” I told them, beaming.

“What no hug for me?” Sam said in mock disappointment.

I laughed and mock-punched him in the shoulder. “Awesome flying this morning, Falcon.”

“Thanks, boss,” he said, pleased.

“It’s just crazy,” Melanie laughed. “Military types are crazy! I’ve been asked to sign some weird things the last couple of weeks, but I never thought I’d be asked to sign a bloke’s pecs!”

“What did you get asked to sign, Wanda?” I asked, grinning.

“You don’t want to know,” she replied with a grimace.

Everyone roared with laughter.

“What’s funny?” Rhodes asked suspiciously, as he and Maria walked up the ramp.

“Nothing. We’ll tell you later,” I said, still chuckling as I pressed the button to close the doors, and prepared to lift the jet into the air. “Let’s go home.”


	7. 7.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always time for cake.

It was a relaxed group that strolled down the ramp onto the facility landing pad.

It had been a good day, we were all feeling tired but pleased with ourselves. I was even considering giving everyone the night off, thinking it might be nice, for once, to have a quiet evening with Melanie. Maybe we could have dinner, just the two of us, and afterwards I could find a few new ways to reward her for her incredible performance today, show her how proud I was of what she had accomplished in only a few short months…

I was jolted out of my dreamy introspection as I realised Bruce was waiting for us. My heart immediately began to pound. He held up his hands hurriedly as my face showed my alarm.

“Don’t panic, there’s no emergency, I just thought you’d like to know the last shipment finally arrived. We can get started on the Pym Particles as soon as Melanie is free.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. As it turned out, the need to deal with the media frenzy had not been the only hold up. Getting the time machine up and running again was not a quick and easy process, and just getting hold of some of the materials and equipment needed to synthesise the Pym Particles had been a major chore. We had been waiting nearly a fortnight for this last mysterious package to turn up.

“That’s great news,” I told him gratefully. “And the timing couldn’t be better. I think the media have finally started to calm down. At least, Pepper told me this morning her PR team actually got to take a coffee break and visit the bathroom between calls. Hopefully, the girls might be able to get on with something other than signing autographs from now on.”

“Thank bleeding god,” Melanie muttered behind me.

The others all paused as we reached the junction in the corridor, the residence wing to our left, the working part of the building to our right, waiting expectantly.

Engrossed in planning the best way to approach our forthcoming trip back to my past, I automatically turned to the right. We would need to identify the most favourable time period to target, as well as come up with a suitable back-story for Wanda…

A collective, barely-heard sigh made me pause. With a guilty start, I remembered my previous plans for the evening.

I dithered uncertainly, torn. Now that we finally had the green light, I was loath to postpone getting started a moment longer than necessary. I was dreading the moment I would have to step back inside the Red Room, but having the prospect hanging over my head was even worse; I wanted to get it over with. Not to mention that the longer we delayed, the longer we were giving Goravitch and the KGB to complete whatever nefarious plans they were working on. We needed to get going.

And yet… it had been months and nothing had happened, and the plan had already waited over a fortnight, surely it could wait another day? We were all tired.

I turned back with a faint smile. “Relax guys,” I told them quietly. “You were amazing today. Take the evening. Chill out. We’ll take this up tomorrow.”

They all grinned with ill-concealed relief. It made me realise how tired they all looked. I scolded myself sharply for driving them too hard. None of us had taken a day off since the trip to the island, almost a month ago. Such a pace was second nature to me; I tended to forget that most of the human race preferred to observe luxuries such as weekends. I shook my head ruefully. Maria was in charge of schedules for the rest of the staff, and no doubt remembered niceties such as downtime, but the Avengers themselves were my responsibility, and I had been treating them as though they were machines, capable of rolling on continuously without a pause. I should probably remedy that, if I didn’t want my team to burn out. They deserved better.

“You know what,” I said, “scratch that. Take the weekend. Get out of here for a while.”

They stared at me in incredulous delight. I grimaced and made a shooing motion.

“Go on, go. I don’t want to see your faces again until Monday. Just be careful.”

With grateful looks, they all turned and fled as though worried I would change my mind.

“And stay out of trouble!” I called sternly after them, smiling at their eagerness. I wondered where they would go. Perhaps to visit family, those that still had any. Perhaps they would do normal things, go shopping, stroll through the park, catch a movie, eat out…

“Maria, you really need to speak up about the whole free time thing,” I chided my second gently. “You know what I’m like. I forget. Remind me in future.”

Her lips twitched. “Deal. Do I take it I also have leave to depart?”

I grimaced. “Get of here, Maria. That’s an order.”

She laughed and walked off in the direction of the control room. She would take her precious weekend off, but not before she was satisfied that everything was in order. She was the best.

A pair of arms slipped around me and I smiled as Melanie cradled me from behind.

“That was nice of you,” she murmured, resting her chin on my shoulder. “They need a break.”

“I know. I forget that,” I admitted. I smiled at her fondly. “I need _you_ to keep reminding me that people need things like days off, as well as Maria. I work you all way too hard. I’m surprised you don’t all go on strike.”

“You work them too hard because you work yourself too hard,” she observed, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not like you’re making them slave while you sit and eat grapes. They don’t blame you, they know you work just as long hours as they do, or even longer. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been sneaking off to your office when you think I’m asleep.”

I started guiltily, and she laughed. “Oh for a camera. Your face is priceless.”

I sighed. “Busted,” I confessed. “Sorry. In my defence, I don’t need as much sleep as you, and I didn’t want to keep you awake. You’ve had enough to deal with…”

“I know,” she replied. “You don’t have to apologise, I appreciate the thought. But you need a break sometimes too, you know. You’re still human, no matter how much that serum enhanced you. And just because you _can_ get by on three hours sleep, doesn’t mean you should. You know what they say about burning the candle at both ends. Maybe you’ve got a bigger candle than most, but you carry on long enough, you’ll burn out like anybody else.”

I was silent. I couldn’t say for definite she was wrong, but I suspected that by her reckoning I had been burning that candle for most of my life. The concept of a day off from work, of doing something purely for pleasure rather than to protect my cover or perfect some skill, was something I had not experienced until after I defected to Shield, and it was still something I found difficult to wrap my head around. So was the idea of spending an entire night sleeping, unless I was recovering from several days without rest. I had learned very early to function on as little as three or four hours a night, or even less – at the Red Room, every extra minute one could spend on practice could mean the difference between life and death. I had never been able to rid myself of that slight anxiety whenever I lay down; the feeling that sleeping was wasting precious time, taking me away from more important tasks. Only in the last few months, in her arms, wrapped in her warmth and security, had that feeling finally started to leave me, but it still returned when I was under stress.

“So,” she continued in a lighter tone, prodding me down the corridor. “What shall _we_ do with our precious free weekend?”

I frowned thoughtfully, twining my fingers through hers as we walked. “I don’t know. What did you used to do on your days off?”

She shrugged. “Nothing very exciting. I used to play pool at a local pub, have a drink or two. Go climbing or hiking. Chill out on the sofa and watch films, or read books. Go for coffee. Shop. Normal, boring stuff.”

“It sounds wonderful,” I said wistfully.

She glanced at me quizzically as she buzzed open the door to the residence wing. “Didn’t you ever do stuff like that?”

“Not really,” I admitted. In truth I had never had much use for leisure time. The conditioning of my early years, where any moment I wasn’t using to hone my skills was a moment that might cost me my life, was too strong to overcome. “I spent most of my time between missions training, keeping myself combat ready, developing useful skills. Languages, new techniques, new technology, stuff like that. Movies, books, were just ways to keep my knowledge up to date, make sure I could blend in, not something I did for pleasure.” I thought hard. “I occasionally went for a drink with Steve. Tony threw the odd party. But I still felt like I was working, even then. Observing people, memorising conversations, gathering information…”

She shrugged. “You can still have fun doing something, even if you tell yourself its work,” she pointed out, falling onto one of the sofas in the lounge and stretching out luxuriously. “You’re telling me there was no particular skill you practised more than others, because you enjoyed it?”

“Maybe,” I admitted grudgingly, curling up beside her.

She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“I may have spent more time than strictly necessary practicing my driving,” I confessed, slightly embarrassed. “I suppose I didn’t _technically_ need to practice driving around race tracks at 200 miles an hour. And it may have been a little frivolous to buy a Corvette Stingray. It was the only thing I ever bought for myself.” I sighed in regret. “I loved that car. It cornered like a dream.”

“What happened to it?”

I pulled a face. “All my stuff got seized when I went on the run, after the whole Sokovia Accords debacle. I never saw it again. Some puffed up civil servant probably has it in his garage.”

She squeezed my hand sympathetically as I tried not to brood on that. I didn’t often get attached to things, but I had been very fond of that car.

“Anything else?” she asked.

I started to shake my head, then remembered.

“I used to hang out with Clint and his family at his farm sometimes,” I said softly. I smiled nostalgically. “They were probably the only times I didn’t feel like I was on duty. I got to be ‘Aunty Nat’ instead of Agent Romanoff… Those times are the happiest memories I have…” I smiled at her affectionately. “Until you came along.”

She smiled eagerly back. “Do you think he and Laura would mind if we paid them a visit?” she suggested.

My own smile grew wider at the thought. Clint had been nagging me to come and stay with the family for months. “I’m sure they wouldn’t.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” she demanded, grinning. “Let’s give them a call!”

****

Clint waved happily from his porch as we strolled down the path from the field where I had parked the jet. The sun was starting to sink behind the trees, casting long shadows across the grass. He called something over his shoulder, and there was a joyful shout from inside.

“Stand by to repel boarders!” I remarked, grinning, as the kids hurtled out of the house towards us.

“Aunty Nat!”

Nathaniel reached me first and I laughed as I caught up my namesake, spinning him around. Another small body crashed into me, and I was surprised to find Morgan hugging me ecstatically around the legs.

“Looks like Pepper is gate-crashing our party,” Melanie commented in amusement.

Clint laughed, catching that last as he and his elder two children joined us. “Actually, you’re gate-crashing hers. Nathaniel and Morgan are tight,” he smiled and ruffled the youngsters’ hair, “and she and Laura get on like a house on fire, so she comes to spend the weekend when she can. But don’t worry, the more the merrier. There’s plenty of room.”

“Aunty Mel, you’re in my magazine!” Lila told her excitedly.

Cooper nodded enthusiastically. “Your suit looks _cool_!” he added. “Did you bring it with you Aunty Mel? Can we see?”

Melanie was so charmed by her sudden elevation to family status she didn’t even grimace. On first meeting her on the island trip, the children had all accepted that the two of us were ‘together’ without batting an eyelid, which I supposed just showed how times had changed. The concept of a same-sex relationship was perfectly normal to them, and it made me glow with happiness that they so naturally included her in the same family bubble they extended to me.

“Sorry guys,” Melanie said, looking regretful at their disappointed faces. “I didn’t think I would need it, so I left it back at HQ.” She smiled conspiratorially. “I’ll bring it next time though, and you can try out all the secret gadgets we don’t tell the fans about.”

They brightened.

“Awesome,” Cooper beamed. He turned to me. “Aunty Nat, you have to come see what we’ve done with the barn! Dad and I are turning it into a workshop. We’re going to build a hot rod in it!”

Clint rolled his eyes indulgently. “Cooper has a new obsession for everything mechanical,” he told us. “I was thinking we would get him an old car to tinker with, but no, he wants to build one from scratch.”

I laughed, not fooled in the least by his plaintive tone. He was just as excited at the prospect of a new project as his son. He must be finally running out of ideas for improvements to make to the house.

“Come see our playroom, Aunties,” Nathaniel urged in his turn, he and Morgan eagerly tugging on both our hands.

“Nathaniel has a _huge_ train set!” Morgan added, as if that was the deal clincher.

“They don’t want to play with your trains,” Lila interjected scornfully. “Come see the obstacle course me and Dad set up round the back, Aunty Nat!”

“Hey, hey, give us chance to get in the door,” I said, laughing, fending them off. “We’ll see everything there is to see, don’t you worry, we have all weekend. Let me say hello to your Mom.”

“I’ll get her!” Nathaniel yelled, setting off at full speed back into the house, Morgan at his heels.

Clint shook his head, chuckling at his son’s exuberance. “Like a bull in a china shop,” he muttered fondly. He inclined his head invitingly. “Come on in, girls. Cooper, make yourself useful and take your Aunts’ bag to their room please.”

Cooper grumbled slightly under his breath but complied.

Laura and Pepper appeared, the two youngest hanging on their arms, as we entered the house. Laura hugged us both warmly.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I told Pepper, grinning.

She laughed. “It’s a small world.”

It was nice to see her here, looking relaxed and at home in casual clothes, without the usual brisk, highly focussed air of a driven business woman with twice as many urgent tasks as time. It occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one guilty of being a workaholic, although I suspected in Pepper’s case she had turned to work to distract her from her grief. It wasn’t even two years yet since Tony’s death, after all. Morgan was no doubt a huge comfort, but the child couldn’t do much to ease all the evenings she had to spend alone once her daughter was tucked up in bed. I silently blessed Laura for her thoughtfulness in inviting them to stay. It was clearly doing them both a world of good.

“Dinner’s nearly ready,” Laura said, smiling serenely at me.

“Chicken!” Nathaniel yelled deafeningly. He was at the stage where enthusiasm was measured in decibels.

Laura tutted fondly. “Yes, fried chicken, and there’s no need to shout. Go wash your hands, they’re filthy, what have the pair of you been doing?”

Nathaniel and Morgan both shoved their hands behind their backs.

“Nothing,” Morgan said sweetly.

“A likely tale,” Laura said in resignation. She swatted them both gently. “Go on, go wash up. You too Lila, and tell Cooper I expect him to give himself a thorough scrub if he’s been in the barn all afternoon.”

“He has,” Lila reported. “I’ll tell him.” She ran off up the stairs.

“Make yourself at home,” Laura told Melanie cheerfully, ushering her into the kitchen. I was already digging cutlery out of a drawer to help set the table. Laura flashed a grateful smile at me as she returned to the chicken sizzling in a pan on the stove.

Pepper sat back down at the table to the mug of tea our arrival had interrupted. “We were just catching up with your press cuttings,” she said teasingly to Melanie, indicating an open, colourful magazine on the table.

Melanie groaned dismally. “Which one is it? It better not be the one that kept asking me about my underwear!”

We all laughed. “Nothing so risqué,” Pepper replied, her eyes twinkling. “Not in a teen magazine.”

“Oh god, that’s worse,” Melanie exclaimed, grimacing. “That was the dude with the lip piercing that was all about ideals. What’s your ideal date? Your ideal birthday gift? Your ideal man…”

“What did you say to _that_?” I demanded, pausing in laying out cutlery. Clint chuckled over the cucumber he was slicing for a salad.

“What do you think?” she retorted scathingly.

“With you, I dread to think!”

“I said ‘no comment’,” she told me primly.

“They didn’t print that,” Pepper intervened. “Ideal date though… what do you mean you’ve never been on a real date?” She pointed to the sentence beneath the question.

Melanie shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “Well, I haven’t, not the way you mean, with the whole dinner and a movie and flowers type thing. I’ve always just ended up with people I already knew, or fell in with strangers I met in a bar or something. Nothing that you Americans would call a date.”

Pepper looked at me accusingly.

“Oh come on,” I protested, dumping down a jug of juice and a stack of coloured tumblers. “Give me a break, we were marooned on a pacific island for eight months, and I was unconscious for two of them! She never told me how she felt, and I didn’t even know I was… capable… of feeling anything for her, so how was I supposed to take her on a date?”

“That was more than six months ago,” Pepper scolded. “You’re seriously telling me you’ve been together all this time and you’ve never given her a candlelight dinner or a bunch of flowers?”

“Well neither have I,” Melanie pointed out as I bristled at the unfairness of her accusation. “We’ve been a little busy, Pepper.”

She huffed, hardly mollified. “Well I hope she’s at least got something special planned for your birthday.”

Melanie flushed scarlet and looked quickly down as my mouth dropped open.

Pepper looked heavenward in despair at my surprise. “Honestly, what do you two talk about?” She pushed the magazine towards me, directed my attention to a specific point on the page, and my eyes widened as I read the date printed there. Meanwhile, she eyed Melanie with some curiosity. “Why haven’t you told her it’s your birthday on Sunday?”

Still reeling at this unexpected information, I rather wanted to know the answer to that myself, although admittedly I was equally to blame for my ignorance. I had never thought to ask.

Melanie looked uncomfortable. “Nat doesn’t know when her birthday is,” she told Pepper quietly, her eyes on the table, “so it didn’t seem fair to make a big deal out of mine. Anyway, I’ve never been all that fussed about birthdays, not since my Mum died the day before my seventeenth….”

There was a silence as everyone realised what day that made it tomorrow.

Pepper looked mortified, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh, Mel, I’m so sorry… I had no idea.”

She shrugged, her eyes still averted. “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t to know.” She picked up the magazine in an effort to change the subject. “What do they want to put my birthday in a magazine for, anyway?” she mumbled crossly. “Have they put my whole damn biography in here?”

“Nah, just your main stats,” Clint said, pointing to a column. He grinned. “You know, so the kids can compare you against other superheroes, have the age-old playground argument of who would beat who.”

“How the _hell_ do they know how much I weigh?” Melanie gasped, staring at the stats column incredulously. “I never told them that! What did they do, sit me on some concealed weighing scales or something?”

I chuckled. “They probably just guessed. They have no problem making stuff up.” I kneaded her shoulders, planting a kiss on top of her head. She reached up and laid her hand on mine, still rifling through the magazine with the other in unwilling fascination. The feature on her seemed to go on forever.

“Hey, where’s the double-spread pull-out poster gone,” Clint complained in mock dismay. “I was going to ask you to sign it…” He laughed, ducking away from her half-hearted slap.

“It’s already on Lila’s wall,” Laura said, carrying a huge plate of fried chicken to the table. She glanced apologetically at Melanie. “ _She_ might ask you to sign it,” she admitted.

Melanie smiled. “I suppose I can cope with that.”

A sound like a herd of elephants falling down the stairs preceded the rush of the four youngsters into the room.

“Hey, hey,” Laura scolded as Cooper made an eager grab for the chicken. “Table manners, if you please! Sit down.” He scowled grumpily but did as he was told. We all squeezed around the long table as Laura brought over a huge dish of potato wedges, and another of well-buttered corn on the cob. Clint placed his dish of salad in the middle.

“All right, dig in,” he said happily.

“Yes!” crowed Cooper, snatching up the chicken drumstick Laura had stopped him from taking, right before Lila, who was reaching for the same piece. “Snooze you lose,” he told her gloatingly. Lila stuck out her tongue at him and chose a thigh instead.

“Mom, can I have some ketchup?” Nathaniel pleaded.

“Yes, sweetie, it’s in the cupboard.”

It was a wonderful meal, full of chatter and laughter. I felt myself relax completely for the first time since I had decided to go back to the Red Room, munching contentedly and surreptitiously holding Melanie’s hand under the table, absorbing the delightful chaos that was a thriving, happy family. One of these days, I thought absently, Melanie and I should really talk about our future. It was a little early to be thinking of such things yet, but I ached to know how she felt about the possibility of having a family someday. We could find ourselves a little haven like this farm, like the island. Maybe I would even retire, or semi-retire, like Clint…

“Nat?”

Melanie dug me in the ribs and I blinked, suddenly realising everyone was staring at me.

“Oh, sorry, what?”

“You were miles away,” Laura laughed. “I just asked if you would pass the chicken dish.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” I passed her the empty dish, embarrassed, and she added it to the stack of dirty dishes she was gathering up. “Don’t bother,” she said as I opened my mouth to offer to help wash up. “It’s the kids’ job to clear up.” Lila was already filling the sink to wash the pans while Cooper stacked plates in the dish washer. Nathaniel and Morgan trotted around, somewhat haphazardly clearing the table.

Once their chores were done, Melanie and I had to fulfil our promise to go with the younger two to the playroom to see the marvellous train set. We had fun making them zoom around the tracks for a little while. Morgan smugly showed us a gizmo she had rigged up that would detect when two trains were on the same track and automatically switch the tracks to prevent a collision. It didn’t always work, much to her annoyance, but that was because Nathaniel much preferred them to crash, and kept disabling it when she wasn’t looking. She finally caught him at it, and chased him around the room, yelling in rage while we collapsed into helpless laughter. As though they had a sixth sense where their offspring were concerned, Laura and Pepper promptly turned up and ended the battle by hustling both of them off to baths and bed. Still chortling, the rest of us took a stroll outside, showing Melanie around the farm and admiring Cooper’s almost-completed workshop and Lila’s impressive obstacle course, although it was too dark by now to fully appreciate the latter, the sun having disappeared behind the trees. We promised to spend more time out here with both of them on the morrow.

We retreated back into the house, and sat down to a hilarious game of monopoly in which Pepper, who I accused of having an unfair advantage, managed to bankrupt the lot of us with an impassable gauntlet of hotels. Cooper and Lila were then shooed off to bed, yawning, leaving the rest of us to lounge comfortably around the fire. Melanie sat between my feet, leaning contentedly against my legs while I absently played with her hair. Pepper was curled up in an armchair, gazing dreamily into the flames.

“So Mel,” Clint said lazily as he tossed another log on the fire, “if it’s not too personal a question, how old are you on Sunday?”

Melanie chuckled softly. “Clint, you know you should never ask a woman her age.” Then she relented. “That depends… do the years I was vanished count?”

“God no,” Laura said with a shudder. “Think how confusing that would be for the children! Cooper would be nearly twenty!”

“Then it’s my thirtieth.”

“Thirty huh?” Pepper’s eyes lit up. “That’s a milestone. I know you said you don’t really do birthdays, and that’s totally understandable, but you got to admit, thirty is a big deal. Seems a shame to waste an excellent excuse for a party….”

Melanie groaned, hiding her face against my knee.

“Or at least cake?” Clint suggested hopefully.

“The kids would be thrilled,” Pepper wheedled.

She had to laugh. “Blackmail,” she accused them. “You know I’d do anything for those kids.”

My heart gave a hopeful flutter at that. It was true, she did seem to enjoy being around the children. Maybe she would be amenable to my half-formed fantasies of the future…

I stopped myself going into another daydream with an effort as she gave in to their coaxing with an aggravated noise.

“All right,” she acquiesced grudgingly. “But please, I really don’t want a big fuss. I don’t mind doing a little something for the kids, but don’t go mental. That means _you_ , Pepper,” she added warningly.

Pepper started guiltily, and Melanie glowered at her.

“Oh fine,” Pepper relented grouchily. “Small and discreet it is. I hope you won’t object to me going and picking up a _few_ supplies tomorrow.”

I smiled to myself, suddenly inspired. If Pepper was going shopping, I had an item or two to add to her list...

Melanie sighed. “I suppose.”

I chuckled at her. Anyone would have thought, from the look on her face, that she faced a couple of hours of being stretched on a rack, rather than a celebration. Then she yawned behind her hand.

I prodded her gently. “Come on, you,” I said fondly. “You’ve had a busy day, beating up half the US army. Let’s go get some sleep.”

She stretched and yawned again. “I am pretty tired,” she agreed sleepily.

Clint smiled. “You know your room,” he said to me. “Night girls.”

We said goodnight and I propelled Melanie up the stairs, guiding her to my familiar room at the back of the house. The bed had been made up with fresh linen, and the small holdall we had brought with a few necessities sat on top of the battered chest of drawers. We changed and cleaned our teeth, and then snuggled together under the covers.

“It’s really nice of you, agreeing to a party, for the kids,” I murmured, stroking my fingers idly up and down her back.

She smiled sleepily. “They’re great kids. Clint and Laura and Pepper are so lucky to have them…” She sounded wistful.

I hesitated, debating whether to voice the question that had been on my mind all evening. Here was the perfect opportunity to ask, but I worried it was too soon, or that I might not like the answer…

“Yes,” she murmured.

I frowned, twisting slightly to look quizzically into her face. “Huh?”

“You’re wondering if I want kids,” she said. She kissed me gently. “The answer is yes, I would love to have a family someday.” She laughed softly at my astounded expression.

“How did you know…?” I demanded. She swore she didn’t have mind reading powers, but it certainly felt like it!

She cupped my cheek lovingly in the palm of her hand, lightly stroked my skin with her thumb. “You only ever go off in a dream when the kids are around,” she murmured fondly. Then she sighed. “Besides, I know your molecular structure down to the last atom, I’m hardly going to overlook the fact you’re missing an organ. I know what they did to you, and I know how badly you regret it.”

She placed a gentle finger over my lips as I opened my mouth once again to protest. I had only ever confided that secret to one person; how could she possibly know?

“You never talked about it, of course not,” she answered my unspoken question. “But still, it was a fairly simple deduction to make when you had as long to watch you as I did. All those orphanages you anonymously set up for children whose parents had vanished. You used to go through the profiles and the look on your face nearly broke my heart. The few times you actually decided to _watch_ something on tv, instead of driving me crazy flicking through the channels, it was nearly always something to do with children, or pregnancy. I remember you watching some documentary once about women who didn’t know they were pregnant, and you cried yourself to sleep that night…” 

I swallowed hard, disturbed that the heartache I had thought to take to my grave had been so easy for her to read. Admittedly, I had thought I was alone, hadn’t been on guard against being watched, but still…

She shifted. “Are you mad?” she asked anxiously.

I shook my head, forcing myself to relax. “I guess I still find it hard to wrap my head around,” I confessed. “You know so much about me, and I know so little about you. Your fans probably know more than I do by now. At least they would have known it was your birthday…”

She grimaced. “I could have dealt with you not knowing about that,” she muttered. Then she smiled reassuringly. “We didn’t exactly get together the normal way,” she reminded me. “Pepper is right about that much, we did kind of skip the whole dating stage. But don’t forget, we _did_ spend all that time on the island together, and you _do_ know me, better than anyone. There are things I’ve told you that I’ve told no one else. Does it really matter if you don’t know petty details like my favourite colour?”

“Blue,” I said without thinking. It was the most prominent colour in her wardrobe, the colour drink tumbler she had chosen at dinner tonight…

“See?” she said, delighted. “You didn’t even need to ask.” She looked sheepish. “And now I feel bad, because I genuinely have no idea what yours is. You never seem to wear any particular colours or anything obvious like that.”

I grinned. Ludicrously, it made me feel better that I still had a few secrets she hadn’t been able to penetrate through observation. “It’s a spy thing,” I explained. “You’re trained to choose clothing based on what will blend in, not on personal preferences.”

“Huh,” she mused. “So that’s why you tend to wear dark colours at the moment? Because most of the facility staff wear black uniforms?”

I nodded, slightly embarrassed. “I don’t really do it on purpose, but I guess it’s a hard habit to break,” I admitted.

“So… what is your favourite colour?” she prompted curiously.

“Green.”

“Green?” she repeated, her eyebrows rising.

“Yes.”

She beamed, as though that simple little fact about myself had made her day. “I love it when you surprise me,” she murmured. “I would never have guessed that. I’m curious though, why green?”

I shrugged. “It’s the colour of spring, of life. The winters are long in Russia. It always gave me a bit of a lift when spring finally came, and everything slowly turned green. It was beautiful.” I smiled at her. “The only beauty in my life, until I saw you.”

She laughed softly. “And Pepper thinks you’re not romantic.” She kissed me, and sleepily nuzzled my neck. “I love you,” she whispered in my ear. “I love you too,” I murmured back, searching for her lips with my own. She made a quiet, contented sound in response to my soft kisses.

Blissfully content in each other’s arms, we drifted to sleep.

***

“Did you get it?” I asked Pepper, glancing around to check Melanie was nowhere in earshot. It was Sunday morning, and Pepper had just returned. She had set off on her trip to procure party supplies yesterday, leaving Morgan with us. She should have been back last night, but had been forced to overnight in New York to deal with some unexpected business matter or other. Fortunately she had managed to settle it quickly and get back today in time to prep for the party.

She smiled. “Of course.” She produced a small box and handed it to me. “You owe me big time,” she warned me. “Those photos took some tracking down, I’ll tell you!”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, it’s a pity you don’t have dozens of people at your beck and call to take care of that sort of thing. Oh, wait…”

Pepper laughed. “Regardless, there was work involved.”

“I appreciate it,” I told her sincerely, examining the contents of the box gleefully. “It’s perfect. She’ll love it.”

She laughed again, quietly. “Happy to help. It’s nice to see romance isn’t totally dead after all. Now if you don’t mind, I have some party decorations to put up. Go distract Mel.”

“She’s distracted already,” I assured her. “Lila challenged her to a race around her obstacle course. No powers allowed.”

Pepper grimaced. “In that case you had better go rescue her! Just keep her outside until later.”

She bustled off into the house. I sneaked upstairs to our room to stow my prize before trotting back outside, waving absently to Laura, Morgan and Nathaniel on my way, who were happily baking an enormous birthday cake in the kitchen, all three of them covered in flour. Some delicious smells told me Laura was cooking up a sumptuous feast for later.

I rounded the barn and found Melanie collapsed on a hay bale, clutching her side and looking as though she was struggling to remember how to breathe. Lila waved at me, grinning, from the top of a cargo net.

“Where… did you… disappear to?” Melanie demanded breathlessly. “I think your niece… is trying to kill me!”

“She’s your niece too, now,” I said fondly, laughing.

“Aunty Nat!” Lila yelled. “Come on, it’s your turn!”

Melanie gave me a push. “You heard her,” she said, flopping back onto her bale. “It’s your turn. I need a rest.”

Still chuckling, I obliged. By the time I had beaten Lila two out of three runs (I let her win one, out of affection) Melanie had recovered. Mindful of Pepper’s instructions, I kept her busy outside, which wasn’t hard. Cooper showed up to drag us to his workshop, and we spent a couple of hours helping him and Clint put together some shelving to hold their tools and arguing amicably over what sort of car they should build. Bored with the endless motor talk, Lila set up an archery target and continued Melanie’s instruction in the use of a bow and arrow that she had started the day before. Melanie had promised to take her rock-climbing at some point in return. Nathaniel and Morgan then turned up, their culinary adventures completed, and begged us to take them for a ride in the ancient tractor. It wasn’t my Corvette, but it still good fun, at least until it broke down.

“I told you tractors aren’t supposed to go that fast!” Clint scolded me as we poked about in the engine, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

“What, I was only doing forty-five,” I protested. “It’s not like I was going for a handbrake turn…”

“Only because it doesn’t have a handbrake!”

“Relax, I’ll get it running again.”

Our bickering was drowned out by the sudden arrival of another quinjet, which came in to a noisy vertical landing right next to the one I had parked in the field on Friday evening.

I looked quizzically at Clint. “Were you expecting more visitors?”

“Of course,” he said, looking at me as though I were an idiot. “You don’t seriously think we’d throw a party without inviting the gang do you? Pepper sent one of her jets to round them up.”

Melanie shook her head in exasperation. “That woman has a serious issue with the concept of small and discrete,” she muttered.

I chuckled. Despite the fact that I had ordered them out of my presence for the weekend, I was happy they were here. I waved at Wanda, Bruce, Sam and Rhodes with my wrench as they strolled towards us.

“Hey birthday girl,” Sam greeted Melanie cheerfully. “You sure kept that quiet!”

“She doesn’t like being fussed over,” Wanda commented, grinning, giving her adopted sister a hug.

“What are you guys up to?” Rhodes asked, eyeing the wrench.

“Aunty Nat killed the tractor,” Cooper explained, handing his father a screwdriver, and somehow smearing oil across his face in the process.

Sam grinned. “Going for the handbrake turn, huh?”

“Are you accusing me of reckless driving? Moi?” I said innocently.

Clint snorted, the sound a metallic echo from the depths of the engine compartment. “Nat, you drive like a Nasca racer whose helmet’s on fire.”

“Not on this thing I don’t,” I retorted scathingly. “A hamster wheel has more horsepower. Maybe you should forget the hot rod and build yourself a decent tractor.” I looked the new arrivals over. “What, no Maria?” I asked.

Rhodes shrugged. “We called her, but she said she had a prior engagement.”

“Her loss,” Clint pronounced, emerging with a sigh. He gave the tractor a disgusted whack on the bonnet. “I think it’s had it,” he said mournfully.

I patted him on the shoulder. “It’s had a great life. It should have gone to the big farm in the sky years ago. Donate it to a museum, and I’ll get you a new one. One with some power.” I smiled mischievously. “And a working handbrake.”

“Awesome,” Cooper said enthusiastically. “Can we have one with a mechanical shovel? I’d love to study the hydraulics…”

Clint groaned. “Now look what you’ve started,” he grouched.

I tutted at him. “You should be proud that he wants to spend time learning engineering instead of bumming around on computer games all day.” I draped an arm conspiratorially around Cooper’s shoulders. “Stick with me, kid. When things calm down a bit, I’ll get your Dad to bring you to the facility for a visit. You can hang out with the techs that work on the jet. Now there’s some fancy hydraulics for you. And if you’re really wanting to get into this sort of thing, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of internship programme.”

His eyes shone with excitement. “Really?”

“Totally. It’s a done deal,” I assured him. I smiled brightly at Clint. “There, that’s your farm equipment and your son’s future sorted, all in one day.” I tossed my wrench back in the box with a clank. “What would you do without me?”

He shook his head, smiling ruefully. “I have no idea.”

Sam laughed. “Well if that’s all sorted, shall we get the party started?”

I squinted towards the house. As if on cue, Morgan and Nathaniel burst out, gesticulating wildly for us to come in. “I believe we can, yes.”

“Yes! Food!” Cooper exclaimed gleefully, setting off at a run.

We all laughed as he hurtled towards the house at top speed.

“Typical teenager,” Rhodes commented. “All stomach.”

Melanie grimaced as we entered the living room. A huge banner had been stretched across the room, proclaiming ‘Happy birthday, Melanie’. There were more balloons than a parade. I suspected the children had been helping Pepper with the decorating. I was equally sure that the mass of balloons arranged to form an enormous ‘30’ was Pepper’s own handywork.

True to the agreement, Melanie’s birthday party was heavily aimed at pleasing the children. The food was delicious as always; the cake was a multi-coloured marvel, Nathaniel and Morgan having been extremely enthusiastic with the icing. Laura had produced thirty somewhat mismatched candles, and Melanie hid behind me in mortification as we gave her a rousing chorus of ‘happy birthday’ with more gusto than tunefulness. She complained that thirty candles was way too many to blow out on her own and enlisted the children’s help, much to their glee. She smiled affectionately at Nathaniel’s serious statement that she could have all their wishes as well as it was _her_ birthday, but refused to give in to their pleas to tell them what she had wished for. We played silly party games for the sake of the two younger ones, and laughed till we cried at tiny Morgan scolding Bruce for accidently sitting on the pinata, crushing it to mulch and spilling sweets all over the sofa.

“Time for presents,” Wanda announced, pushing a box at Melanie.

She reddened again. “You didn’t have to…”

Wanda laughed. “I know I didn’t have to. Just open it.”

She took it and tugged at the ribbon. I watched her with half an eye, inwardly pondering whether to sneak upstairs for my own gift or whether to save it for when we were alone. I was distracted by Pepper’s phone starting to ring loudly. Melanie looked up from her half-unwrapped present. Her face took on an eager, expectant look. I glanced between the two of them, puzzled, wondering why Melanie would be so interested in Pepper’s phone call.

Pepper caught my look and smiled in a satisfied sort of way, checking the caller ID. She winked at Melanie. “You might want to save that for a few minutes. I believe your special delivery item is about to arrive.”

Melanie’s face lit up. She pushed her present back at Wanda. “I’ll open it in a minute!” she promised, then grabbed my hand and hauled me towards the front door.

“Woah, woah, what’s happening?” I objected, bewildered by her exuberance.

She beamed. “I arranged for _you_ a little surprise.”

“What? What for?” I objected. “It’s not _my_ birthday!”

“It could be, for all you know!” she retorted. “Anyway, you’re getting a present whether you like it or not. Move it!”

“What the hell did you do?” I asked, somewhat alarmed, as Melanie hauled me out of the house onto the front porch. Everyone else followed, eyes practically bulging out of their heads with curiosity, all except Pepper, who leaned casually in the doorway, watching with an incredibly smug expression.

“You’ll see,” she said happily. She shaded her eyes, looking into the distance, then pointed. “Here it comes!”

I squinted where she was pointing, down the dirt track that connected the Bartons’ farm to the main road a couple of miles away. A streak of dust was rising behind a shining black vehicle that was speeding towards us, its polished surface flashing in the evening sun. The sleek shape was very familiar…

My jaw dropped. “That’s… that’s my… You didn’t!”

Melanie beamed happily. “Oh yes I did. Or rather, they did.” She indicated with a flourish.

The black Corvette Stingray purred to a halt in front of the porch. Maria gracefully got out of the driving seat, and Nick Fury appeared from the passenger side. I gaped at them, speechless.

“Oh wow,” Cooper crowed. “You bought her a car!”

“Oh, we didn’t buy it,” Fury replied pleasantly. “We just paid a call on a puffed-up civil servant who had it in his garage.” He winked at me with his one good eye.

“My car…” I mumbled, choked up. Maria, grinning, tossed me the keys. I stumbled down the porch steps and laid my cheek lovingly against the windscreen, stroking the bonnet ecstatically.

“Uh oh,” I heard Sam mutter teasingly to Melanie. “Don’t look now, but I think you’ve been replaced…” I hoped she would punch him, because I was busy. I opened the door and slid into the driving seat. The interior was immaculate, exactly the way I remembered it, right down to the smell of the leather. I wondered if Fury and Maria had had it valeted on their way from wherever they had liberated it from, or if the civil servant had just stuck it in his collection like a polished trophy and never actually taken it out.

“Poor old girl,” I murmured consolingly, patting the steering wheel. Possessing a car like this and not driving it was on par with child abuse in my opinion. The corvette was like a thoroughbred racehorse. It _needed_ to run. I turned the key and revved the engine, savouring the deep-throated roar.

“Did we miss the party?” Maria asked brightly.

“I hope there’s some cake left,” Fury remarked, his good eye twinkling. “Especially after Bruce has been at it…”

“Hey!” Bruce objected indignantly.

“There’s plenty left,” Laura said cheerfully. “Who else wants seconds?” she called to the rest.

“Me!” yelled Cooper and Nathaniel simultaneously, dashing back inside.

Melanie strolled to my side as everyone else dispersed back into the house, tactfully leaving me to my reunion with my machine. I was grateful for a little time to gather my composure, embarrassingly emotional. After a minute of furiously blinking moisture out of my eyes, I got back out of the car so that I could pull Melanie roughly into my arms, kissing her passionately. “Thank you,” I whispered when we broke apart for air.

She shrugged, grinning. “I didn’t really do anything. I had a word with Maria before she left, she said she had a hunch where to find it. I asked Pepper if she wouldn’t mind helping them get it here, seen as she’s so keen on romantic gestures.” She pressed her lips gently back to mine. “I’m glad it makes you happy,” she murmured.

I squeezed her tightly. “Almost as happy as being with you.”

She smiled. “So are you going to take me for a spin?”

I stroked the smooth metal, very tempted, but the thought of my own little surprise waiting upstairs changed my mind.

“Tomorrow,” I promised. I tugged her back towards the house. “Right now, you are the guest of honour. It would be rude to run off. Besides, I believe you have gifts to open. You don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

She laughed. “All right.”

We re-joined the group inside.

“Your turn!” Wanda told Melanie happily, pushing her present back into her hands.

While she was distracted, I edged over to where Fury, Maria and Pepper were standing.

“Thank you,” I murmured fervently to all three of them.

“No problem,” Maria said dismissively. “It was your car in the first place, we just recovered it for you.” She grinned. “Besides, I got to drive it here. You would never let me drive it before.”

“Because the one time I did, you took off the wing mirror!”

She pulled a face. “That wasn’t my fault, I wasn’t expecting to end up in a car chase. I thought I did pretty well to keep the damage to one wing mirror, quite frankly…”

“You promised me not a scratch.”

“Well, technically, there weren’t any _scratches_ …”

“Ladies,” Fury drawled, “perhaps you could continue this discussion another time?”

We laughed.

“What on earth are those?” Pepper muttered, eyeing the two objects Melanie had just lifted from the box Wanda had given her with a cry of joy.

I leaned around her to look, then laughed. “They’re rock climbing shoes. Mel lost hers when she vanished, along with everything else she owned.”

“She climbs?” Pepper remarked with surprise.

I nodded fervently. “I should say so. You should have seen her go up the cliffs on the island. I couldn’t have done it without equipment, but she just went up like a gecko. No powers involved either.” I clucked my tongue and glanced at Maria thoughtfully. “We’ve got room for a climbing wall at the facility right?”

Maria pursed her lips. “Don’t see why not. One of the hangar walls should be tall enough, or maybe we could build something outside… I’ll make enquiries.”

I beamed. Melanie would be ecstatic, and the addition could be a valuable asset. Melanie had already demonstrated that climbing was excellent physical training, and considering the scrambling around we often had to do, it would be advantageous to develop such skills. I was already evolving plans in my head for her to train the ground teams. I suspected Wanda, Sam and Maria would enjoy the challenge, and I had to admit I was keen to receive her tutelage myself. It would be nice to spend some quality time with her engaged in _her_ choice of activity for a change. I tucked the thought away in the back of my mind for further consideration. 

Despite the fact that she had objected to having a party at all, Melanie seemed to be enjoying herself. I basked in her happiness and the company of friends, but once the children went to bed, I started to feel a little impatient, my mind dwelling on my own little surprise awaiting upstairs. Finally Laura took pity on me and gave an ostentatious yawn, which was quickly contagious.

I squeezed Melanie’s hand and inclined my head slightly towards the stairs. She smiled, getting the point immediately. I ignored the knowing glances of the others as we said our goodnights and retreated to our room.

“So, you still wish no-one knew about your birthday?” I asked her teasingly.

She shrugged, smiling faintly. “I suppose I can live with it.”

“Admit it, you had fun.”

She chuckled. “All right, yes, the party was fun.” She came into my arms. “But I was hoping you and I might have a little celebration of our own…”

I grinned, picked her up and carried her to the bed. She laughed quietly and wrapped her legs around me, pulling me down with her when I tried to drop her on top of the covers. She kissed me, her hands tugging at my clothing.

I disengaged gently. “Hold that thought,” I told her. She blinked in surprise as I left her to rummage in the chest of drawers. I came back and sat cross-legged beside her, pressing the small, oblong gift box into her hands. “Happy birthday.”

She shot me a questioning look, surprised.

“You’re not the only one who asked for a favour or two from Pepper yesterday,” I said, grinning.

I watched her on tenterhooks as she tentatively tugged the ribbon undone, and opened the box.

“Oh, Nat,” she breathed, lifting the antique gold locket and gazing at it admiringly. “It’s beautiful…” I had no idea where Pepper had found it, but it was exactly what I had envisaged, an elegant oval with a delicate leafy design etched into the surface, hanging from a simple gold chain.

“Open it,” I urged softly.

She frowned in puzzlement, but did as instructed. I watched her eagerly.

As I had remarked to Pepper earlier that evening, Melanie had lost all her personal possessions from her past life when she vanished. Though she mostly seemed not to mind, joking that there was nothing she needed that she couldn’t now have for the asking, I knew she wasn’t being completely truthful. She was far too practical to get attached to _things_ , as a general rule, but I knew in her heart of hearts she had wept for those items we could not replace – the few mementos she had treasured of her mother and brother.

Pepper had nodded understandingly when I explained what I wanted. She had worked miracles, tracking down a decent picture of both of them, and had them printed in miniature to fit inside the locket, all in a remarkably short space of time.

Melanie’s hand went involuntarily to her mouth as she stared speechlessly at the two beloved faces that smiled at her from within that simple gold oval.

Then she burst into tears.

I pulled her gently into my arms and rocked her as she sobbed, pressing my lips to her hair.

“You okay?” I murmured anxiously after a minute or two. “I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“I’m not upset,” she quavered. She looked up at me, smiling through her tears. “It’s the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I beamed, delighted with the success of my little surprise. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she assured me fervently.

Gently, I took it from her and fastened it around her neck. She gazed at me hungrily as my fingers brushed her skin. With a mischievous smile, she pushed me away and slid backwards a little to give me a better view as she slowly unbuttoned her shirt. I grinned as she slid the fabric sensually from her shoulders.

“Now,” she murmured, laying back against the pillows with a seductive smile. “Get over here so I can thank you properly…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it feels like I'm dragging it out a bit, but I wanted to give Natasha and Melanie one last bit of peace and happiness before the shit hits the fan...


	8. 8.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Wanda go back in time to infiltrate the Red Room.

“2006,” Clint said. He frowned. “Or was it 2005?”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Clint. I didn’t drag you away from the farm for vague hints. I need the exact date.”

“Er… December? Winter, anyway. It was snowing.”

“Seriously, don’t you remember?”

“Don’t you?” he demanded hotly.

I shrugged, defeated.

Sam shook his head. “Jeez, guys, I thought you were tight. How can you not remember when you met?”

“I remember the circumstances,” Clint retorted defensively. “I wasn’t fixated on the date!”

“December fifteenth, 2005,” Maria said, walking into the room and tossing a file down on the table. “I dug out your original report,” she told Clint. “And by the way, your writing skills leave a lot to be desired.”

“Yeah well, I was never one for paperwork,” he muttered.

“You were too busy getting an eyeful, by the looks of this.” Sam whistled appreciatively at the photos that adorned the first page of the report. “Wow, Nat, you really… I mean… sheesh!” He fanned himself with his collar, his eyes glued to the page as though unable to drag them away.

“Do you mind!” Melanie snapped, yanking the file out of his grasp. Her mouth fell open as she glanced over the images. “Oh!”

“Seriously?” Rhodes said, looking over her shoulder. “She gave you a lap dance? _That’s_ how you two met?”

“I was undercover,” I said with dignity.

Rhodes snorted. “I don’t see much of you being covered.”

“That’s enough!” Melanie said furiously. “All of you, put your eyeballs back in, right now.” She ripped the page out and folded it up, shoving it in her pocket, much to my amusement.

Sam frowned in puzzlement, still staring at where the page had been. “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Those photos were taken nearly twenty years ago, but you look exactly the same…”

I raised an eyebrow.

Sam flushed, realising we were all staring at him. “I mean,” he qualified hastily. “Your face looks the same. I wouldn’t know about the rest of you, obviously…” He coughed, embarrassed.

“You know, he has a point, Nat,” Rhodes said slowly. “I never really thought about it before, but I’ve known you what, fifteen years? And Sam’s right, other than changing your hair a few times, you never look any different…”

“Huh, Clint muttered, staring at me, much to my discomfort. “You know what, you’re right. I just thought you were aging well,” he smiled crookedly, “unlike me. But looking at those pictures… it’s like you’ve barely aged at all.”

I sighed. “You want to take that one?” I said resignedly to Melanie. “You can probably explain it better than me, seen as you’re the one who figured it out.”

She grimaced. “It’s complicated, but in essence, Nat was injected with an experimental serum when she was at the Red Room. Amongst other things, it substantially increased the lifespan of her cellular cycle.”

The others stared between us blankly.

“You got dosed with a super-soldier cocktail? Like Steve?” Maria demanded. “Why did you never tell us?”

I sighed again. “Nothing like as extreme as Steve, but yes. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know. I didn’t remember anything about it until recently. I still don’t remember all that much, and I’m still not sure of all the effects.”

“But one of those effects is that you don’t _age_?” Bruce exclaimed, astounded.

I winced. “I age,” I replied uncomfortably. “Just… apparently quite slowly…”

Their jaws dropped.

“How old _are_ you?” Sam asked, awed.

I rolled my eyes irritably. “How should I know? I don’t exactly have access to my birth certificate, and the Red Room sure as hell didn’t hand out birthday cards!”

“So you could be as old as Steve?” he probed, raising his brows speculatively.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I snapped, mortified at the thought. “I might be hazy on dates, but I’m pretty sure I would have noticed the second world war! I can’t have been all that old when Clint met me, I don’t think I was an active KGB agent for more than a few years. Mid-twenties maybe, at a guess.”

“So you’re probably somewhere in your forties now,” Sam commented. He grinned with a sly glance at Melanie. “You cradle-snatcher!”

“Oh, grow up!” I retorted, my cheeks burning. My unknown age was a bit of a sore spot with me. If I was honest, it did bother me that I was probably a lot older than Melanie, although it didn’t seem to discomfort her in the slightest.

She smiled now and reached for my hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “Who cares how old you are?” she said sensibly. “It’s just a number. Whether there’s ten years between us, or twenty, or even more, makes no difference. We’re Avengers; age is hardly a limiting factor. If you want to get technical, Steve was over a hundred by the time he went back and married Peggy Carter. And Thor is what, a few thousand years old or something ridiculous, and wasn’t he having a fling with that astronomer who was like twenty-something? Talk about an age gap! Compared to that, a measly ten or twenty years is peanuts.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s all relative. On a biological level, we all go through the same number of cells, hers just take longer to go through their cycle. In terms of cellular lifetimes, she could well be younger than me.”

That shut him up, and I smiled, although the last part of her speech roused other concerns that had been bothering me. I had some legitimate fears that my extended lifespan was going to become a serious problem in the future. I couldn’t forget how Steve had awoken from his seventy-year sleep to find the love of his life ancient and bed-ridden… The thought of Melanie becoming old, while I stayed much as I was now, terrified me, but I tried not to dwell on it. When I had raised the subject, Melanie had assured me she had already considered that snag, and was working on it. I wasn’t sure what she planned to do, but she was the expert. If she thought her powers could provide a solution, I could only bow to her judgement.

Firmly, I pushed the thought away and cleared my throat. “It’s a good thing, anyway, in terms of this mission,” I pointed out. “At least I won’t give the game away by turning up looking twenty years older than I’m supposed to be.”

“So what, you’re going to go back and give Clint another lap dance?” Sam sniggered. He raised a mischievous eyebrow at Clint. “Did you two ever …?”

“No, they didn’t,” Melanie snapped fiercely, before either Clint or I could even open our mouths.

I looked at her, impressed by the certainty in her voice. “Are you guessing, or have you been picking up tricks from Wanda?” I asked her.

She smiled faintly. “I don’t need to guess. I know you better than you know yourself. You were one of the most deadly assassins in the world, you were hardly going to be blown away by his archery skills.” She smiled at Clint. “Not that those aren’t impressive; but I’m thinking earning her respect took a little more than that. I’m willing to bet, maybe not my life, but a substantial amount of money, that you were the first man she had ever tried to seduce that turned her down.”

I flushed scarlet, and cleared my throat again hastily. “Moving on!”

“Yeah, get to the point,” Clint muttered, his ears bright red. He looked at me uncomfortably. “Ah… what is the point again, Nat?”

I made an aggravated sound. “The point is, we need to figure out the best time for Wanda and I to make our appearance. And as I don’t particularly fancy getting my past self executed when we haul ourselves out of there, the logical time is when I was already out of reach.” I took the file from Melanie and tapped it with a finger. “There has to be a window, a period of time when I had already defected to Shield, but the KGB didn’t know it yet.”

“February 2006,” Maria said.

I looked at her.

She shrugged, smiling faintly. “You could have just asked. Unlike you two, I _do_ remember dates. You entered the USA February fourth, 2006.” She pulled a face. “And you have no idea the strings Fury had to pull to get the government to agree to allow you in the country.”

I snorted. “Maybe not, but I remember spending nearly four months locked in a safe house after I arrived. You’re lucky I didn’t defect right back again. I thought I was going to go crazy.”

“Yeah, we kind of figured that when you started throwing kitchen knives into the paintings,” Maria retorted. “It didn’t exactly help win over the authorities.”

“How come you had to be stuck in a safe house for so long?” Rhodes asked curiously.

“We had to do a thorough evaluation and assessment of her capabilities and suitability. We only had Clint’s word that she was an asset rather than a threat; Fury believed her defection was genuine, but the powers that be took a great deal more convincing. In the meantime, we needed all the information she could give us on the KGB and the current situation in eastern Europe,” Maria replied. “Oh, and then there was this,” she added, pulling a sheet out of the back of the file and placing it in the centre of the table.

Sam leaned over to look and whistled. “Natalia Romanova, wanted dead or alive… a hundred million roubles…”

Rhodes frowned. “How much is that in US currency?” he asked.

“About two million dollars,” I said drily.

Melanie made a choking sound.

“Yikes,” Sam commented. He raised an eyebrow at me. “I begin to see what you mean. They don’t take kindly to their agents wandering off, do they?”

“Nope. Which is why I need to make sure my other self is well out of reach. When I disappear from the Red Room with their prized new asset, they are going to be _extremely_ pissed off.”

“You’re sure they will see me as an asset?” Wanda spoke up for the first time. She had been very quiet since we had started planning in earnest. “You’re sure they won’t just give me to Goravitch?” Her eyes were haunted.

I couldn’t blame her for being afraid. She had seen my memories after all.

“I won’t let them,” I promised her again. “I swear, if they don’t take the bait, we will abort. We will be back here in the blink of an eye.”

She nodded, still very pale. I worried that this was asking too much of her, even though she had all but insisted she should come along. She had never gone undercover before, let alone in such arduous conditions.

“Mel,” I said, turning to her, “why don’t you and Wanda go take a break? I’ll come down in a while to work on her backstory, once we fine tune the dates.”

Melanie nodded and prodded Wanda gently to her feet. Wanda followed her from the room without a word.

There was a silence. Then –

“She’s scared out of her wits,” Rhodes muttered uncomfortably.

I sighed. “She has good reason to be. She’ll be okay. Mel will help her. She’s good at that.”

“You are sure you can keep her safe though, right?” Clint asked anxiously. He was very fond of Wanda. The two of them had developed a close bond after Wanda’s twin brother had died saving Clint’s life in the battle of Sokovia, and they had both taken Steve’s side against the rest of the Avengers over the matter of Bucky Barnes. I knew he was worried about her uncharacteristic withdrawal.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t,” I told him. “It’s not going to be easy on her, but she _will_ come back in one piece. I promise.”

“Fine,” he muttered. He crossed his arms. “But if she doesn’t, you and I are going to fall out, big time.”

“Deal,” I agreed. I turned firmly back to the business at hand. “Sam, what’s the date on that wanted notice?”

“Ah… March 17th, 2006.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking hard. “So assuming it took a little while for word to get around, for that notice to come to Shield’s attention… I sent off a report just before I left so that should have kept them from checking on me for a bit… I’d say we have maybe a month, maximum, from me leaving for the USA to the KGB issuing orders for me to be killed on sight.”

“Is that going to be enough time?” Maria asked.

I chewed my lip. “It will have to be. We can’t go back any earlier, or I’ll be at risk of running into myself.”

“Russia is a big place,” Sam said doubtfully.

“Yes, but I can’t just turn up anywhere. When Clint intercepted me, I was in Kiev. I was in the middle of infiltrating a Ukrainian gang who were running weapons to Chechen separatists. That’s where the KGB expect me to be, so that’s where I have to ‘find’ Wanda.”

“Okay. So we have a time, and we have a place,” Maria summed up succinctly.

I nodded, smiling ruefully. “Now all we need is a good story…”

*****

The sound of the piano didn’t pause at my knock at Wanda’s door.

“Come in,” Melanie’s voice called.

I opened the door.

Wanda didn’t look up, her attention fixed on the beautiful but melancholy melody she was coaxing from her piano.

I looked worriedly at Melanie, who sprawled on a large cushion on the floor. She grimaced slightly and shook her head, indicating she had been unsuccessful at talking Wanda out of her withdrawal.

“Do we have a timetable?” she asked.

I nodded. “We do. We just need to flesh out our backstory.”

Melanie pulled a face. “Have fun with that.” She got to her feet. “I’d better get back to the lab. Those Pym particles aren’t going to synthesise themselves. I’ll see you later,” she said to Wanda’s bent head.

Wanda made no reply.

Melanie sighed. “Talk to her,” she murmured as she passed me. “Something’s really bugging her, but she won’t tell me. Maybe she’ll tell you.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

I regarded Wanda. She was unnaturally pale. Her expression was just… wrong. I sat down on the cushion Melanie had vacated and waited.

After a few minutes, she finally wilted under my steadfast gaze. Her playing faltered and fell silent.

“You want to talk about it?” I said quietly.

She smiled faintly. “Probably about as much as you wanted to talk about Mel when you first got here.”

I nodded with a wry smile. “So, a lot. And not at all.”

“Pretty much.”

“What frightens you most?” I asked.

She winced. “Honestly?” She drew a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “You do.”

I blanched. “Me?”

She nodded.

I sighed in resignation. “Because I was jealous of you and Mel, before? Is that it? You’re wondering if I’m going to take the opportunity to get rid of you? Or let you suffer a little, as punishment for Mel caring about you?”

She pursed her lips and said nothing.

I shook my head. Standing up, I moved to sit beside her on the long piano stool. “You really think I would do that?” I asked her gently.

“I know _you_ wouldn’t,” she answered softly. Her eyes studied me gravely. “I know Natasha Romanoff would never hurt me. But that isn’t who you’re going to be back there, is it?”

I blinked, suddenly discomforted.

“I’ve been in your head, Nat,” she said earnestly. “I’ve seen your memories. I know better than anyone the kind of person you were back then. And now you’re going to have to be that person again.”

I clenched my jaw. “You’re saying you’re worried I might relapse? Become the bad guy again?” I stood up and spun to face her. “How can you think that? After all I’ve done to put that life behind me, to be better… you think I’m still capable of that?”

She sighed. “I hope not. But don’t underestimate the power of the past to influence you, Nat. There was serious darkness in you once. I know it wasn’t your fault, that’s the way you were made, but don’t forget, we are about to step back inside the place that made you that way. It took you a long, long time to bury Natalia Romanova as deep as you did, but now you’re going to dig her up. Can you really be sure she won’t get a hold on you?”

“Yes,” I told her firmly. “And you know why? Because I have something Natalia Romanova didn’t have. I have a family, I have friends, I have people who love me. I will never succumb to that darkness again, because you won’t let me.” I smiled and laid my hand on her shoulder, looking earnestly into her face. “You’ll be with me, and I trust you. You won’t let me forget who I am. And I will never, _ever_ hurt you.”

She searched my eyes intently. I held her gaze unwaveringly, and finally she breathed a soft sigh.

“All right,” she said quietly. “I believe you. I trust you, Nat.”

“Good.” I sat back down next to her. “I promise you; Natalia Romanova is as dead Ultron and Hydra and Thanos. She will never come back.” I gave her a teasing nudge. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with plain, boring Natasha Romanoff for a mission partner.”

She snorted a laugh. “I’m not sure ‘boring’ is a word I would ever use to describe you.” She pretended to consider. “Although I suppose there were all the times you used to come down on me for sneaking off to see Vis. Who did you think you were, my mother?”

“Hey!” I pretended to be deeply offended. “I’m not old enough to be your mother!” Then I pulled a face. “At least, I hope not.”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Fine. Annoying, bossy older sister?”

“Better.” I gave her a crooked smile. “And I’m not bossy.” Then I gave in to a rare impulse and gave her a quick hug. “Joking aside, I might not say it, but the fact is I care about you just as much as Mel does, Wanda. You’ve been my sister a lot longer than you’ve been hers. I will never let anything happen to you.” I gave her a reassuring squeeze and then released her, feeling a little self-conscious. “So quit worrying about my dark side, little sister. You’re worrying about all the wrong things. This will be a very short chapter in your story, albeit not a very pleasant one. The Red Room is not going to be fun destination, I’ll grant you, but it’s not like we have to be there long. We will be in and out as quickly as we can. A few days tops. And we should be speaking Russian,” I added, switching to that language. “You need the practice.”

She grimaced. “Fine,” she replied in the same tongue. Luckily, Russian was a commonly spoken language in many areas of Eastern Europe, including Sokovia. She was reasonably fluent, although rusty.

“You have a date?” she asked carefully.

I nodded, standing up and removing myself back to my seat on the cushion. “Once we are ready, and Mel and Bruce have the machine up and running, we are good to go.” I smiled at her reassuringly. “But there’s no rush. We can take as much time as you need for you to get into character. We won’t flick that switch until you are ready. Or, ready enough,” I rephrased, as she looked at me sceptically. You were never _ready_ for something like this.

She nodded, sucking in a calming breath. “So what’s my story?” she asked, leaving the piano to sit cross-legged on the sofa. I was pleased to note she already looked better, more alert, more herself. Clearly, whatever qualms she had been experiencing had eased. She was finally committed to the mission.

I smiled. “So at the time we are going back to, I was in Kiev, sniffing out a weapons dealer supplying Chechen separatists. I’m thinking maybe I discover they aren’t just offering guns…”

****

“You’re sure you’re ready for this?” Melanie was asking Wanda anxiously as I entered the hanger where they had set up the machine.

Wanda rolled her eyes, a little exasperated. “Mel, stop fussing. It’s going to be fine. How do I look?”

I smiled as Melanie looked her up and down critically, taking in the distressed black jeans, corseted top and battered black leather jacket. With her hair turned jet black, she looked a convincingly rebellious teenager. All the black had the opposite of an aging affect, made her look like a youngster who was trying too hard to appear older than she was.

“You look like a scruffy goth kid,” Melanie said.

She smiled. “That’s the plan.”

Melanie hugged her tightly. “Be careful,” she murmured. Then she turned to me, an appreciative smile curving her lips. “Well hello gorgeous,” she drawled.

I laughed, choosing to respond to her banter rather than the ill-concealed fear that lurked in her gaze. “You like my look?” I asked coyly, batting my eyelashes.

She tried to look disapproving, but couldn’t keep a hungry gleam from entering the eyes that wandered over my outfit. I was wearing a long-sleeved but _very_ short dress that belted at the waist, giving me an exaggerated hourglass figure, with a collared neckline so low I was in danger of falling out of it, a possibility not helped by the underwear that boosted my cleavage to unnatural levels. My legs were encased in thigh-length, grey velvet boots.

“Do you _have_ to dress like a stripper on her day off?” she grumbled half-heartedly. She interrupted before I could reply. “I know, I know, that’s who you were pretending to be at the time.” She draped her arms around my neck. “I better not find out you’ve been giving any more lap dances...”

I smiled, pulling her close. “I’m saving them all for you,” I whispered in her ear.

“Mmmm, be still my heart,” she murmured back. She tilted her face to mine, kissing me long and lingeringly.

“Oh, jeez. Get a room!” Sam complained loudly.

I made a rude gesture behind Melanie’s back, my lips still on hers.

Finally, reluctantly, I pulled away from her.

“All right,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s do this. Bruce?”

“All set,” he replied, handing over the watch-like devices, red Pym Particles gleaming at their centre, that would enable us to access the Quantum Tunnel, and return. I strapped mine to my wrist. Wanda did the same.

“Here,” Bruce added, passing me something else. I turned it over curiously. It was a silver necklace with an oval pendant. I glanced at him quizzically.

“Digital camera and audio recorder,” he explained. “Completely untraceable now, never mind in 2006. Just fidget a bit, brush that stone,” he indicated the ruby-red gem in the centre, “and you’ll be recording everything in front of you. They’ll never know. Plus it has a state-of-the art wireless sensor. Stick it on top of a computer console and it will download everything on its hard drive in minutes.”

“Neat,” I commented, impressed. I fastened it around my neck.

“Where’s mine?” Wanda demanded.

I shook my head. “You’re the distraction,” I reminded her. “You’ll be under close scrutiny. We can’t risk it. You need to be clean. No tech, no weapons.”

I carefully checked my own concealed paraphernalia, smiling faintly at their astonishment at the variety I had managed to stash about my person despite the skimpy outfit.

“Holy moly,” Rhodes muttered, torn between admiration and disbelief. “How do you even move with all that?”

“Years of practice,” I told him airily.

“Is anyone else disturbed that she has handcuffs?” Sam asked.

I ignored him and looked at Wanda. “You ready to go undercover?”

She gave me a grim but determined look. “Ready enough,” she replied in Russian.

We took our places on the platform. The others gathered around, expressions anxious as we activated the watches, Stark’s nano-technology swiftly covering us in the white full-body armour that would protect us from the effects of the Quantum Tunnel. Bruce fiddled with the control panel to the side, setting the switches.

I took a deep breath, took a last look around at them all. I was comforted by the knowledge that, to them, this would take no time at all. Wanda and I had a maximum of four weeks to achieve our mission, but however long or short our sojourn in the past, to the rest of the team, we would be back in seconds. Melanie would not have to suffer an agonising wait for me to return to her. I was thankful for that.

Still, as the saying went, the sooner we left, the sooner I would be back. I tried very hard not to remember that the last time I had done this, I had not come back.

“Punch it,” I ordered, my eyes fixed on Melanie.

Bruce pressed the button, and with a gut-wrenching feeling of being sucked down an interdimensional plug-hole, we were abruptly somewhere else.

****

The modest apartment in Kiev looked like I had left it only a few hours before. Which wasn’t really surprising, as I had. The logistics of time-travel were hard to wrap your mind around. There were even still edible groceries left in the fridge.

“Nice,” Wanda commented, looking around, looking surprised at the opulence of some of the furnishings. “More comfortable than I expected.”

“I’m afraid I can’t take the credit,” I admitted. “I killed the previous owner.”

“Oh.”

I examined the sheaf of notes and maps on the table in the corner, the results of my surveillance operation before I had made the decision to leave. I hadn’t considered it worth either taking or destroying. I vaguely remembered thinking it might put my employers off the scent for a while, if it looked like I had just stepped out and would be back any moment…

I quickly refreshed my memory of the details of the gang I had been infiltrating. Glanced over the drawings and photos of the warehouse complex I had determined was their headquarters. I nodded to myself in satisfaction. It was perfect for what I had in mind.

“Okay,” I said. “You lay low here for a while. I need to go scout out the location for our little bit of theatre. Make sure all the pieces are in place.”

“Can’t I help?” Wanda asked.

“We can’t risk anyone seeing you with me yet. Stay here and keep quiet.”

***

Once I had determined to my satisfaction that the gang were still in residence, I returned to the apartment. The location would indeed serve admirably, and even the brief glimpse of the gang’s activities I had gotten had eased any qualms I might have had about what I planned to do. Clint’s intervention had spared them the first time round. This time, they were going to get their just deserts.

I switched on the ancient-seeming computer, waiting while it booted up and connected to the internet.

“What now?” Wanda asked, watching me.

“Now, we let the big fish see the bait,” I replied grimly. “And hope they don’t see the hook…”

I accessed the secure message software hidden under layers of protocols. A familiar plain black window popped up on the screen.

TARGET ACQUIRED, I typed. TARGET IN POSSESSION OF POTENTIAL ASSET. AWAITING INSTRUCTIONS.

I pressed enter.

The message flashed once and disappeared.

We waited, Wanda fidgeting nervously. I remained still.

Abruptly new text appeared on the screen.

DESCRIBE ASSET.

I thought carefully. Exchanging a glance with Wanda, I typed a reply.

CAPTIVE FEMALE, LATE TEENS. SUSPECTED TELEKENETIC ABILITY.

I pressed enter, and the message vanished.

We waited some more while my unknown correspondent digested that.

“Who are we actually talking to?” Wanda whispered.

I shrugged. “We never met. We referred to them only as The Brethren. When I was in the field, I got all my instructions like this,” I indicated the screen, “or via other operatives.”

She opened her mouth to ask something else, then tensed as another message flashed on the screen.

ELIMINATE TARGET. ACQUIRE ASSET. SEND TIME AND COORDINATES FOR EXTRACTION.

We looked at each other.

“They took the bait,” I said in satisfaction.


	9. 9.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Wanda make it to the Red Room. Now all they need to do is find what they came for, and get out in one piece. How hard can it be?

The unfortunate kidnap victim was unable to scream, thanks to the thick wad of filthy cloth gagging her mouth.

Her current tormentor died with his pants around his ankles as my bullet blew through the back of his head. I hauled the poor woman off the table, and Wanda’s red tendrils of energy picked it up and used it to swipe the other men in the room against the wall. With five quick shots, I dispatched them before they could recover.

Wanda untied the victim while I reloaded my weapon. The woman’s eyes were wide with terror. I put my finger to my lips as Wanda removed the gag.

“We are friends,” I said in Russian. “We are here to help you. Stay quiet. There are more men. Understand?”

She nodded. “My husband,” she croaked.

“Is he captive too?”

She nodded again.

“I thought you said they were gun smugglers,” Wanda growled.

I shrugged. “No-one has their finger in just one pie around here.” A curious face peered around the door, drawn by the noise, and the woman shook like a leaf as I dropped him.

There was a shout as someone raised the alarm. I stepped over the body in the doorway and walked into the larger warehouse. Men ran towards me, and I rolled my eyes at their idiocy. They should have run in the opposite direction. I wasn’t complaining however. It made them easier targets, and time was something we were short of. Thirty seconds later, I was reloading again, and a dozen bodies littered the floor.

“Show us where your husband is,” I requested as the woman we had rescued followed Wanda to my side, looking half-sickened, half-exultant at my summary execution of her captors. She pointed a shaking hand to a door on the other side of the warehouse.

I threaded my way through the bodies and stacked crates of weapons. A last survivor, cannier or more cowardly than the others, abruptly hurled himself from behind a crate, dashing desperately for the exit. I cut his flight short with a single shot. He fell with a strangled cry as the bullet took him in the back, twitched once or twice, then lay still.

The door was heavily bolted. I slid the bolts back, pulling the door open.

A small, bare room was revealed. A man wearing the ragged remains of a once-fine suit sat huddled on a stained mattress on the floor, his back pressed into the corner. His eyes were fearful as I came into view, then his stubbled jaw dropped open as his wife pushed past me to rush to him.

“Ana!” he croaked, embracing her fiercely. She burst into tears, sobbing into his shoulder. He jabbered at her in a language I didn’t know.

“You speak Russian?” I asked him.

He looked up warily, tensing.

Ana sobbed a garbled sentence in their native tongue, and he relaxed a fraction.

“Yes. Speak Russian. Some,” he said. “You help. Why?”

I shrugged. “Bad men need killing,” I said simply.

He eyed me. “We go?” he asked suspiciously.

I nodded. “You are free to go.”

“Here,” Wanda said softly. She held out a wad of currency. “There’s a load of cash back there,” she explained, seeing my questioning look. “I figure they might need it.”

She offered it to the man, who stared at her dubiously. She smiled, nodding encouragingly. He took the roll of money and shoved it in his pocket. His arm around his wife, he edged around us to the door.

He paused. “Thank you,” he said. Then they were off, hurrying away into the darkness.

I hoped they would be alright, because we didn’t have time for more. I glanced at my watch. We had less than five minutes before the promised extraction team arrived.

“All right,” I said quietly to Wanda. “Get in there. Let me coax you out. Remember, you’ve been captive for a while. Pretend you’re that woman. Act traumatised. And keep most of your powers in reserve. Don’t let on about the mind reading or flying or energy shields. Stick to moving stuff around.”

She nodded. With a slight grimace of distaste, she entered the cell, dropping onto the mattress and curling up in a ball, huddled into the corner as the man had been. Her face took on the expression of a cornered animal, fearful and semi-aggressive.

I smiled slightly. “Good girl.” Then I remembered something. “Damn. Give me your timepiece.”

She winced.

“We can’t risk them taking it off you,” I reminded her.

I looked up as the sound of a helicopter rumbled overhead. “Hurry,” I hissed urgently. She unfastened the device and tossed to me. I took off my own and hid both in the concealed pocket inside my jacket. I had switched my provocative ensemble for a more practical outfit for tonight’s excursion, dark leggings and a tight-fitting bodice. Wanda was still wearing the clothes she had arrived in, reasonably creased from three days use.

I eyed her critically. “Rough yourself up a bit more. Smudge some dirt on your face, you’re too clean.”

Wanda ran her hands over the filthy floor and scrubbed dirt over her clothing and exposed skin. She screwed up her top, pulling it slightly askew, and ran her fingers through her hair, making herself appear dishevelled.

“Better,” I whispered, satisfied. She now looked wretched enough to pass as a kidnap victim.

She stuck her tongue out at me briefly, then resumed her frightened-animal persona, cowering into the corner. I lowered myself into a crouch just outside the door to the cell, assuming a pose akin to someone trying to coax out a frightened dog, knowing it might bite.

The noise of the helicopter died away. It sounded like they had landed in the courtyard. Swift footsteps and the rustle of cloth accompanied the rush of several masked figures in black into the building, weapons at the ready.

I held up a hand in a commanding gesture as they converged, indicating they should keep quiet.

“It’s okay,” I crooned softly, as though continuing a conversation. “I’m not going to hurt you. The ones who were hurting you are dead. I’m here to help.”

The extraction team paused uncertainly. Heads angled towards their leader, looking for direction.

An enormous, muscular figure walked forward, unhooking his face mask.

The sight of that face sent a shock through me. I caught myself just in time, stifling my instinctive murderous reaction.

Vernon Skuler sauntered up to me. He was much younger than the man who had tormented me in the bunker, clearly in his early twenties, but still a thug. Sadistic cruelty was already etched into his face. He wasn’t as heavily tattooed as he would be in the future, his face and most of his neck were as yet unadorned, although multiple designs already marked what I could see of his arms and hands. His thick lips pursed thoughtfully as he took in my stance.

I swallowed my anger and loathing and forced myself to play my part. “Why don’t you tell me your name,” I said in a soothing voice to the girl in the room. “I’ll tell you mine. My name is Natalia.”

Skuler snorted contemptuously. I tensed as he pulled out a dart gun and stepped past me to shoot her with a tranquilliser.

Fortunately, I had warned Wanda to expect that.

She hissed. Her hands flexed.

Skuler grunted in shock as a wave of red smoke slammed the door shut on his weapon, narrowly missing removing fingers.

I took great pleasure in punching him very hard in the face.

He swore angrily as the door rebounded open again, clutching his nose. I punched him again, and twisted the dart gun out of his grasp as he fell to the floor. Turning my head, I fixed the rest of his team with a cold, dangerous glare as they raised their guns. They shifted uncertainly under my commanding gaze, glancing at each other, and then at the litter of bodies I had single-handedly distributed over the warehouse floor. They slowly lowered their weapons.

Satisfied, I turned back to Wanda. Slowly held up the dart gun I had taken from Skuler so that she could see it, then deliberately tossed it away. Wanda watched me warily, tense and suspicious. I silently applauded her on her acting ability.

Skuler hauled himself upright. “You’ll pay for that,” he growled menacingly at me, mopping his bleeding nose with his sleeve. It was the first time I had ever him speak. His voice was wasn’t as deep as I had expected for such a hulking body.

I cast him a disdainful glance. “The Brethren want an asset,” I said coldly in English. Wanda and I had already agreed that she would pretend not to understand, giving me a way to have supposedly secret conversations that she could listen in on. “Idiot. Can you not see the opportunity this provides?” I inclined my head towards her. “I just freed her from her tormentors. With the right approach, she may join us willingly.”

He snorted again. “Just a woman like,” he said, his English nowhere near as fluent as mine.

I smiled dangerously at him. “Of course, if you insist on using force, feel free. It will give me a good opportunity to assess how deadly her powers are.”

He scowled, but couldn’t help but cast an anxious glance into the cell.

“Fine,” he muttered. “She all yours is. But not all day take.”

“Do you have any food on you?” I asked him, returning to Russian.

Irritably, he unzipped one of the many pockets in his combat jacket, pulled out an emergency ration bar and handed it to me.

I ripped open the packet with my teeth. Showed it to Wanda. Took a small bite, as though proving it was safe to eat, and then tossed it lightly onto the mattress beside her knees.

She reacted like a caged animal who had been half starved, pouncing on the bar and then shrinking back into her corner, as far away from us as she could get, while she stuffed it ravenously in her mouth. I supressed a smile. Wanda deserved an Oscar for this performance.

I eased myself a little further into the room. “My name is Natalia,” I told her softly again. “Won’t you tell me yours?”

Her eyes flicked between me and Skuler.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” I said soothingly, smiling slightly that Skuler had unwittingly played right into our hands. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Won’t you tell me your name?”

She eyed me thoughtfully, as though considering. “Wanda,” she said finally. We had decided it was a common enough name in these parts that there was no need to change it. She would have worries enough without having to remember to answer to a different title.

I nodded. “Hello Wanda. May I come and sit with you?”

She huddled tighter in her corner, her eyes flicking back to Skuler, who stood, arms crossed, in the doorway, looking impatient.

“Not him,” I said reassuringly. “Just me.”

She nodded warily.

I slowly moved closer and sat down on the opposite end of the mattress to her, as though being careful not to frighten her.

“You’ve been here a long time, haven’t you?” I said quietly. “Those men killed your family.”

She flinched, turning her face to the wall.

“Those men are dead now, Wanda. I killed them for you. You’re free.”

Skuler shifted and I cast him a glare. He subsided, scowling.

“What… what will I do?” Wanda whispered. “Where will I go?” She hugged her knees tightly. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“I know a place you can go,” I said, inwardly delighted. She gave me the cues I needed as though I had written her a script. Although I suspected she was probably picking up what I wanted her to say from my mind. It was a handy skill at times like this.

“I can take you somewhere safe,” I continued. “The people I work for would be very happy to take care of you. They wouldn’t hurt you. You are very special, Wanda. Those men didn’t understand how special you really are. Come with me, and we’ll help you. We’ll help you make sure no-one can ever hurt you again.”

I stood up slowly, offered her my hand.

She stared at it suspiciously.

“Come on,” I coaxed gently. “You don’t want to stay here do you? Other men might come and find you.”

She frowned, a look of panic crossing her face. She scrambled to her feet, then, reluctantly, took my hand.

I squeezed her fingers gently, congratulating her on her performance. “That’s right,” I said. “Now there’s a few people outside, but don’t be afraid, I won’t let them hurt you.”

 _Freak out a bit_ , I thought hard at her. _Give them another demonstration_. Just in case they were getting any ideas. We had practiced communicating this way for days, until Wanda was sufficiently attuned to my mind that she could easily pick out my mental ‘voice’ without delving any deeper into my thoughts than she had to. I was confident she would hear the silent instruction.

Skuler backed out of the way as I escorted her out the door. Wanda hissed and shrank back as she saw the silent semi-circle of armed, masked men. She made a skittish gesture. Another wave of red smoke lashed out like the ripple from a stone being dropped in a pond, wrenching the guns out of their hands and sending them clattering across the floor.

“Hey,” I said gently, soothingly, putting my arm around her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I told you, I won’t let them hurt you. They’re here to help you. They’re going to take us to a safe place.”

She clung to my side, as though she had decided that I and I alone was trustworthy.

Just as we had planned.

Skuler gestured with his head impatiently, and his team gingerly retrieved their weapons and moved out, leading the way to where a black helicopter sat in the stone courtyard. Skuler waved me forward. Encouraging Wanda into the helicopter, I heard him issue instructions to four of his subordinates to clear up the mess I had left, and take possession of the cash and weapons and anything else valuable. The remaining two men jumped in the helicopter opposite me, and Skuler got into the pilot’s seat, pulling on the headset.

The propellers whizzed into life, and the helicopter lifted off.

Wanda huddled under my arm. I tried to look as though I suffered the indignity of a cowering teenager clinging to me for the sake of the mission. I got the feeling that her trembling was not entirely feigned. I gave her another surreptitious, reassuring squeeze. _You’re doing brilliantly_ , I thought intently. I felt her relax ever so slightly.

It was a dull flight of several hours duration to Moscow, gliding through the darkness with only scattered pockets of streetlights to look at below.

I felt Wanda tense out of a half-doze as we skirted the lights of the capital and began to descend.

The helicopter settled on a stretch of grass, and my stomach gave an unwelcome lurch as I recognised the white stone building through the windows. They hadn’t bothered taking us anywhere else; they had brought Wanda straight to the Red Room. Though getting inside this place was the whole point of the mission, I hadn’t expected it to be this easy, and I felt a stab of misgiving. Were we walking into a trap?

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , I told myself sternly. _You are Natalia Romanova, loyal servant of the Brethren. You haven’t given them any reason to suspect you of treachery, not yet. They have no reason to set a trap._

Skuler hopped out, and slid the side door open for us. His eyes were mocking as I hesitated, and he gestured for us to get down.

Thankfully, a little reluctance was not in the least suspicious. I had not been alone in avoiding returning to this place unless I absolutely had to. Anyone who survived to graduate shared that aversion; we all hated being between missions, condemned to spending days, or if we were really unlucky, weeks, trapped in the place that held so many horrific memories. I fervently hoped this was the last time I was ever going to have to cross that threshold.

Skuler grinned, enjoying my discomfort.

Scowling, I jumped down, and coolly helped Wanda down beside me.

“Where are we?” Wanda asked nervously.

“It’s a… school,” I answered, forcing my voice to calmness. “A school for special people. Like you.”

Skuler rolled his eyes behind her back. He jerked his head, indicating I should take her inside.

I marched up to the front door with a lot more confidence than I felt, Wanda clinging to my hand.

Skuler must have fore-warned them what to expect over the comms, because only two people awaited in the stone lobby, and neither looked surprised to see the girl in black who stuck to me like glue as we entered the building.

My stomach twisted again as I recognised the marble-faced woman who had raised me with a hand of iron, who had given me to Goravitch and then released me from his clutches, who had forced me to go through with the graduation ceremony…

“Natalia,” she said. A welcoming smile briefly crossed her face but did not reach her eyes, which remained as blank and cold as stone. Her voice slid through me like a knife blade, slicing open old wounds in my soul.

“Madame,” I acknowledged stiffly.

I didn’t recognise the man. He was dark and clean shaven, in a grey suit but minus a tie, his starched white collar open. He looked deceptively harmless, his expression amiable. I was not deceived. This had to be one of the Brethren.

“So this is Natalia,” he said, looking me up and down approvingly. “Madame B speaks very highly of you.”

“So I should,” Madame B said reprovingly. “She is our finest graduate. And look, Vladimir, she has brought us a new student.”

“Wanda, isn’t it?” the man said to her.

She nodded warily.

“Natalia tells us you are special, Wanda,” he said casually. “Why don’t you come along in here, and show us how special you are.”

She looked at me, and I coolly nodded encouragement, pushing her gently forward. I could tell her reaction was not lost on them. They exchanged significant glances as Vladimir opened the antique double doors, ushering us through.

The ballroom looked exactly the same. The floor was just as highly polished, the piano still stood in precisely the same spot. The only discrepancy with the room of my memory were a number of large white pebbles about the size of a clenched fist, that had been arranged in a small circle in the middle of the floor.

“Natalia told us you can move things, Wanda,” Vladimir said. His casual manner could not quite disguise the avarice in his voice. His eyes gleamed as he gestured at the stones. “Can you show us?”

Again, Wanda looked uncertainly at me. Again I nodded, indicating she was to cooperate. And again, they exchanged that significant glance. This was all going splendidly so far.

Wanda motioned. Crimson smoke curled from her fingers, drifted beneath the pebbles and raised them, so that they floated four feet off the ground, still in a perfect circle. A hint of surprise actually crossed Madame B’s face. Vladimir’s eyes lit up hungrily.

 _Give them a shock_ , I thought a little spitefully. _Knock that smarmy smile off his face._

Wanda’s lips twitched. All ten stones shot straight through the window like they had been launched from a catapult. Broken glass fell to the floor in a series of tinkling smashes.

I smothered my satisfaction, twisting my expression into a look of surprise.

They stared at the broken window. Madame B’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly in astonishment, then narrowed again in sudden irritation. Shock passed swiftly over Vladimir’s face, instantly followed by greed, before he again arranged his features in that deceptively benign expression. 

“Very impressive,” Madame B said after a moment.

“Yes indeed,” Vladimir agreed smoothly. “You are indeed, very special Wanda. We would be very happy for you to remain here with us.”

I hated the way he made it sound like she had a choice, as though the gleam in his eyes didn’t indicate that she could no more leave now than a fly could escape the web of a spider. They had taken the bait, hook and all, just as I had known they would, mesmerised by her destructive potential. I only hoped, for Wanda’s sake, that our performance would convince them to continue the path I had started down, rather than the route of force.

Madame B snapped her fingers. A tall girl in her late teens wearing a grey uniform entered the room, standing at attention, her face carefully expressionless.

“Tanya,” Madame B murmured. “Young Wanda here will be joining us. Take her to her room and see her needs are met.”

The girl she had called Tanya nodded. “Yes, Madame,” she said softly. She inclined her head at Wanda. “This way.”

Wanda looked at me, the flash of panic in her eyes completely unfeigned.

“Don’t worry child,” Vladimir said smoothly. “Natalia won’t be going anywhere. Go settle in. We’ll send her up to see you, once we’ve had a little chat.”

I pretended to suppress a flash of annoyance, not wanting them to think I was eager to stay, then composed my face and nodded.

Wanda followed Tanya from the room.

We watched her silently out of sight up the wide oak staircase.

“Well done, Natalia,” Vladimir said in gloating approval. “She is magnificent.”

“Come,” Madame B invited me to follow her through a door into her private sitting room. This too looked exactly as I remembered, although I had seldom been granted the privilege of entering it, and I had certainly never been offered a seat.

I sank somewhat hesitantly into a chair at her gesture, so disconcerted at being treated as an honoured guest that I almost forgot to finger the pendent around my neck, starting it recording. I pushed away a tiny part of me that was thrilled at the unmistakable look of pride that swept across Madame B’s face. She surveyed me like a favoured protégé as she settled herself in her own chair before the fireplace. I felt that younger version of myself stir in the back of my head. This woman’s approval had meant everything to me once...

“Report,” she ordered.

I forced myself to focus, remember the words I had prepared for this.

“I established myself uncover in Kiev, working in a club favoured by several gang leaders,” I began. “Through my surveillance I was able to determine that their activities included kidnapping as well as smuggling weapons. I overheard a conversation between two of the leaders, discussing the girl. They were debating whether to sell her to the highest bidder, or keep hold of her in the hopes of making use of her themselves. It seems they found her quite by chance on a raid, although they didn’t say where. They killed her family, and I suspect the shock may have supressed her powers long enough for them to subdue her. From the looks of the room they were containing her in, they were keeping her drugged and half-starved to keep her weak while they decided what to do with her.”

“Did you find any evidence of where her gift comes from?” Vladimir asked, leaning against the mantlepiece.

“I’m afraid not,” I answered carefully. This was dangerous territory. Wanda’s invented backstory would stand up to some scrutiny, but submit her to a lengthy interrogation and she would be sure to slip. I needed to discourage any move in that direction. “The gang had no luck discovering that either. It may be the trauma she has suffered has resulted in her early memories being blocked.”

Vladimir tutted, disappointed. “Shame. I wonder… perhaps our tame doctor downstairs might be able to ferret out the source, determine if it could be replicated…” he pondered, as though to himself. “Imagine what we could do with a dozen like her…” His face took on a look of cruel greed.

I clamped down hard on a sharp stab of alarm. “I wouldn’t recommend it, sir,” I said politely, forcing my voice to deliver an apparently emotionless assessment. “Her powers seem to react to perceived physical threats to her person, no matter how drugged she is. One of the gang was attempting to rape her as I arrived. She brained him with a table before running off to hide in her cell. She nearly took Skuler’s head off with a steel door when he aimed a dart gun at her. Subject her to too close a physical examination, and we could be plucking scalpels out of our eyeballs. We may have to kill her to make her stop, which seems a waste.”

That seemed to give him pause. His eyes narrowed, and he stared at me thoughtfully.

“Yes,” he said at last, “Yes, that would be a waste. Quite right. She should not be squandered.”

“In any case, Antonin cannot assess her right now. He is away visiting his other project,” Madame B said dismissively. Vladimir looked faintly annoyed, but my ears pricked up. “When he returns, we will see. Your instincts are excellent as ever, Natalia,” she continued approvingly. “I am very impressed by your handling of the situation. The girl certainly seems to trust you.”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “I have found seduction usually garners more results than brute force. You simply have to find what it is the target desperately desires… flesh, drink, money… or in this case, a rescuer, a protector.”

She chuckled coldly. “Masterful. It will certainly make our task easier to have you around. I am assigning you to watch her for the present.”

I let my back stiffen, conveying reluctance. “You are ordering me to stay? Have you no other mission for me? Surely you can deal with the girl from here? I identified her, I brought her in – I’ve done my part.”

“I’m afraid you have done your part too well this time,” she said coldly. “The girl clearly trusts you, and only you at present. Until we can put further controls in place, you are our best means of managing her. I won’t have her smashing up the place.” She looked in the direction of the window Wanda had broken, and again a slight trace of irritation crossed her face. I inwardly marvelled that a woman who never blinked an eyelid while the blood of children spilled across her polished floor could be troubled by a simple smashed pane of glass, although I sensed it had less to do with the mess and more to do with the fact that Wanda had done it without permission.

“No, you must remain here for a time, keep her tractable, until we can find a reliable method of controlling her,” she said decisively.

I frowned, pretending to be less than pleased, but nodded grudging acceptance of the command. “As you wish, Madame.”

“You have had time to observe her,” Vladimir spoke up once more. “Have you any suggestions to make?”

I pondered, choosing my words carefully. “She is quite traumatised. That works to our advantage. The Ukrainians did half our work for us, breaking her down. It will take little to remould her into a new image. I would suggest capitalising on her hatred of her captors. They appear to have employed no other tactics than brute force. If we appear to be the opposite, protecting her rather than brutalising her…”

“She may do anything to win our approval,” Vladimir finished. He nodded pensively. “And her gift? What are your thoughts?”

I shrugged. “She appears to have a reasonable level of conscious control, although she seems to react purely on instinct if threatened. Her instincts are defensive for the moment, but it takes little to turn defence into attack…”

“Hmmmm.” I could see him mulling over the positive and negative connotations of that. It was a narrow line I was walking, trying to make her appear viable enough to be worth the effort, yet dangerous enough to proceed with caution.

“I think we will keep her to the West Wing for now,” Madame B mused. “Best to keep her isolated for the moment. We will evaluate her more thoroughly, then we will know better how to proceed. It may be worth moving her if she proves too difficult to contain here. Antonin’s other facility is more secure…” Her voice trailed off thoughtfully as my ears pricked up again in surprise. Goravitch had another facility, other than his secret lab under the Red Room? My heart beat slightly faster. Could that be where he was lurking in my own time?

Her gazed abruptly snapped back to me. “Go keep an eye on her. A room has been prepared for you next to hers.”

I risked a tiny frown. “In the West Wing, Madame.” I carefully tinted the statement with just a shade of a question, enough to make it clear I was offended, but not to the point of challenging her authority. While in reality I was ecstatic at her command, I had to stay in character, and there was no question that Natalia Romanova would have been sorely vexed at being told to bunk with the trainees.

Madame B’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a problem?”

I held her gaze briefly, then lowered my eyes. “No, Madame.”

The woman regarded me intently for a moment, then, apparently satisfied with my level of submissiveness, relented. “I need you to remain close to the girl, but do not fear that you must do without the comforts you are due. Your room has been fully refurbished to accommodate someone of your rank. If there is anything you desire that has not been provided, see Tanya.”

Her tone was a clear dismissal.

“Yes, Madame,” I said dutifully, rising to my feet. I nodded respectfully to Vladimir. He did not respond, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.

Letting myself out, I paused a moment in the ballroom, shivering in the freezing air that was being let in by the smashed window. The room felt full of ghosts. I could almost see the line of girls dancing in unison across the floor. My knees ached, remembering kneeling for hours, watching, waiting for someone to break. It was unnerving to stand here, free of the uniform, free of the relentless drive to succeed or die.

I made my way up the oak staircase, turning my steps to the West Wing.

It felt like walking into a memory. I had lived here once, long ago. For a long time, it had been one of my dearest ambitions to be permitted to set foot in this hallway. The West Wing was for the oldest, most privileged students. The ones who survived the brutal testing in the underground bunker, although that fact was unknown to the younger generation. Once that milestone was passed, my life had improved dramatically. I was no longer considered expendable, but valuable. I had been allowed a room of my own. A proper bathroom. I had been permitted to talk to my instructors, to ask questions. Here I had learned the subtler skills of my art – how to dress for any occasion, how to mingle, converse on any topic. The myriad dishes of fine dining and how to eat them. The pleasures of the flesh and how to use them to my advantage... This wing had been where I had made the transition from the half-feral orphan to the self-assured agent, a young woman who could blend into any surroundings, mix in any social circle, assume any pose to get close to a target…

Again I felt that younger version of myself stir in the back of my mind, and I shivered, profoundly thankful that I had been ordered to stay here, where my past self was still a youthful, unfinished presence. As opposed to the East Wing, a place no trainee ever set foot, and which was haunted by a far more sinister ghost. The East Wing was the lair of the fully mature, formidable KGB agent, the place I had been forced to return to between assignments. A far more luxurious setting, but not one that in any way inspired comfort, whatever Madame B said. I had no desire to ever set foot in that part of the building again. I feared who I would see looking back at me in the mirror if I did. At least here, in the West Wing, it was easier to separate who I was from who I had been.

I blinked, disorientated, as I became aware something blocked my path.

The girl, Tanya, stood before me. Struggling to regain my focus, I couldn’t help but notice she was uncommonly beautiful. A tall, willowy figure, dark hair tied back, full lips and green eyes… abruptly realising that I was appraising her a little more frankly than was wise, I hurriedly schooled my expression to something more appropriately neutral.

She lowered her eyes deferentially. “Agent Romanova. I have been instructed to tell you that I am at your disposal. Your room has been prepared, if you would like me to show you.”

I nodded slowly. “I must keep an eye on the girl. Where is she?”

“She has the room next to yours. She’s cleaning up.” She held up the bundle of grey cloth in her hands. “I was just bringing her some fresh clothing. I can arrange for food for you both, if you wish.”

“Ah, yes. That would be good, thank you.”

“The girl is in there,” she said indicating a plain wooden door half way along the hall. “Your room is there.” She pointed to the next door along. Then she waved towards the other end of the hallway. “I sleep along there, if you need anything. You can’t miss it, it’s the only other occupied room. I’m the only senior trainee at present.”

I glanced at her sharply. Supressing a flash of outrage, I wondered how many trainees had been tortured to death in this latest batch, if she was the only survivor.

A slight tremor passed over her skin at my grim stare, but she met my gaze unflinchingly. I thought I saw an echo of the suffering I had endured in the depths of her eyes, and my heart suddenly ached with anger and sympathy. Then she averted her eyes once more, her expression going blank as though a shutter had slammed down over it. “Will there be anything else, Agent?” she asked tonelessly.

“Call me Natalia,” I told her softly. “You’ve earned that right.”

A flicker of pride, and something else I couldn’t quite discern, crossed her face.

“Natalia,” she repeated quietly. She met my eyes again briefly, then once more glanced away. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Just a meal, please,” I told her, gently taking the bundle of clothing from her. I hesitated, then added, “Put a sedative in hers. She’ll need to sleep, and Madame would be very displeased if she starts smashing the windows because she’s having a nightmare.”

Tanya’s eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. She left.

I hesitated a moment, looking down the long hallway in the direction she had indicated her quarters lay. One particular door drew my eyes irresistibly. No different to any of the others, a simple wooden portal with a brass knob, it nonetheless stood out boldly in my memory. My old room. So much had happened behind that plain, unassuming door…

Giving myself a firm mental shake, I tore my eyes away and let myself into Wanda’s room.

It was almost identical to the one I had inhabited so long ago; simple, but comfortable. A bed, a small table and two wooden chairs. A cheerfully crackling fire. A wisp of steam and a panicked splash of bathwater drifted through the half-open bathroom door as I entered.

“It’s Natalia,” I called reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. I brought you some clean clothes.”

 _Stay in character,_ I thought urgently. _The room will be bugged._

There was another slight splash, as though she had shuddered involuntarily. I heard the sounds of her hurriedly finishing cleaning up and getting out of the bath. I tossed the bundle of clothing through the door, and retreated to sit in a chair by the fire. My eyes casually flicked over the room, searching for the surveillance equipment I was sure would be present. That reminded me that my pendent was still recording, and I stroked it idly as though lost in thought, shutting it off.

Wanda appeared around the bathroom door, wearing the same grey as Tanya, rubbing her wet hair with a towel.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her casually. _Camera behind the mirror_ , I told her in my head. _Don’t look._

She nodded, smiled shyly. “I’m okay. This room is nice.” Her eyes questioned. She had not expected this.

I smiled reassuringly. “I told you my employers would take care of you.” Inwardly I ran quickly through my memories again, so she could understand where she was.

 _You are a highly valuable asset_ , I told her silently in answer to her quizzical look. _They are hardly going to handcuff you to a bed in a dormitory like a regular conscript._ _Plus they want to keep you away from the rest until they figure out how to control you. Very few people are allowed in this wing._

She smiled again, tentatively, a hint of genuine relief in her expression. “What do they want from me in return?” she asked warily, staying in character.

“I told you, you’re special. They want to know what you can do. They want to help you learn to use your powers, so no-one can hurt you again.”

She feigned a suspicious expression. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. Of course, if you wanted to help them, later, I’m sure they would appreciate it.”

“Help them with what?”

“Help them stop other bad men from hurting people like you.”

She cringed just as a traumatised victim might be expected to do. “I don’t want to go near any more bad men.”

“You don’t have to,” I said soothingly. “Not unless you want to. And not until you can protect yourself. I told you, my employers will show you how to keep them from hurting you. They can show you how you can hurt them instead.”

Wanda turned her back to the camera-rigged mirror and rolled her eyes slightly. I could tell she was sickened by the thought of how easily this manipulation could have worked if this was real. How easily a victim could be remoulded into a killer.

There was a quiet knock at the door.

“Here’s Tanya with some food for us,” I said, as the girl backed into the room, carrying a tray. Wanda scooted skittishly back as she placed it on the table. Tanya swiftly set the meal out. She glanced at me and her hand lingered briefly on the glass of fruit juice she set on Wanda’s side. I nodded curtly.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” she said quietly, and left.

“Come and eat,” I invited Wanda.

She didn’t move. Her eyes were on the glass of juice.

 _It’s just a sedative_ , I told her in my head. _I didn’t think you’d be able to sleep otherwise. You’ve been up all night, you need the rest. And while you are sleeping, I’ll have chance to poke around. Now come and eat. Remember you’re supposed to be starving!_

She warily moved to the table and sat down but didn’t reach for the food. Her eyes were accusing.

“It’s okay,” I said soothingly. “It’s for you.”

 _I promise, no harm will come to you while you’re asleep,_ I thought urgently. _Please Wanda! I can’t sniff around for information on Goravitch while I’m expected to be babysitting you. Now get back into character!_

She grunted, and grabbed a chunk of bread, ripping into it as though ravenous. Which she probably was. I was certainly glad of a meal, despite my uneasy stomach. Neither of us had eaten much the last couple of days. Our hunger gave us an excuse not to have to talk much. She devoured everything I put in front of her, but still avoided drinking the juice until I pushed it towards her.

“You need the vitamin C,” I said pleasantly.

She swallowed hard, but obediently drank it down.

 _Well done_ , I told her proudly. _You’ll start to feel sleepy quite soon. Don’t fight it. Just think, they can’t make you do anything horrible if you’re asleep._

She smiled slightly. I saw a little of the tension relax from her shoulders.

We finished our meal in silence. I could see her eyelids starting to droop.

“You must be exhausted,” I said firmly. “Why don’t you go to bed? It must be nice, right, the thought of a real bed?”

She nodded sleepily. Toddling to the bed, she curled up in a ball under the blankets, her back to the wall. Her eyes were still fixed on me as I settled back in the chair before the fire with the air of someone intending to stay for a long visit.

I stared into the fire, glad of a chance to think.

After a while, I looked back over towards the bed. Wanda was now fast asleep.

I nodded to myself in satisfaction. Glancing at my watch, I found it was now the early hours of the morning. The sun rose late this time of year, but life at the Red Room started early. I had perhaps two hours before there would be too many witnesses around for comfort.

Yawning ostentatiously for the benefit of the camera, I stood up and let myself out, shutting the door quietly behind me.

First things first. I went to my own room which, as promised, was significantly more luxurious, with an enormous bed, and thick curtains and soft rugs to ward against the winter chill. I systematically searched every inch of it, removing a camera and three listening devices. I felt no concerns about doing so; it was expected. No agent worth their salt settled down to sleep in a strange room without first checking for surveillance equipment. Madame B would have probably had me executed on the spot if I had shamed her training with so basic an error.

Once I was satisfied I was unobserved, I paused, listening.

The manor was silent.

I laid down on the bed and waited.

Closing my eyes to enhance my hearing, I tagged the night sounds. The gurgle of plumbing. Slight creaks and groans that haunted any old building. The wind rustling the bare branches of the trees outside. Amongst the natural sounds, I identified several quiet unnatural ones. As I suspected, there was a security detail on duty. I listened a while longer, enough to establish that this was a routine setup. They moved around the manor, inside and out, their focus too wide for them to have been specifically set to watch me and Wanda. This was just the normal night watch, keeping the orphans in and outsiders out.

After another quarter of an hour I decided it was safe to make a move.

I left my room and strolled down the corridor, as though I couldn’t sleep and had decided to take a walk. Acting stealthy in a place full of trained spies was a sure way to get noticed. The key was to be completely nonchalant, as though I had every right to wander the Red Room at night, and trust to my reputation and superior rank that none of the security detail would have the nerve to question me.

Gliding down the wide staircase, I nodded coolly to the man in black who paused in his beat, halfway across the marble hallway. He hesitated, eyeing me, then hurriedly continued on his way.

I smiled to myself. Having a reputation for being a highly dangerous, ruthless bitch occasionally had its advantages.

I wandered into the ballroom. Someone had boarded up the broken window, blocking out the sub-zero February chill. No doubt by tomorrow the glass would be replaced.

I stood for a minute or two in the centre of the floor, as though lost in memories. Which could easily have been the case, the room still feeling eerily haunted to me, but I pushed the recollections aside, focussing instead on waiting for the guard, who had paused again, to get bored of watching me and get on with his patrol. After a minute I heard him walk away.

In less than fifteen seconds I had picked the lock on the door to Madame B’s private sitting room and slid inside. I glanced hurriedly around. A large oak desk stood before the bay window with a computer on it. I removed the pendent from around my neck and dropped it lightly on top of the console. The computer switched itself on. A small window appeared with a status bar, showing it was downloading. While it was busy, I pulled out a tiny led torch and rifled through the papers on the desk. Nothing leaping out at me as being particularly relevant, I picked the lock on the desk drawer, pulling out the files inside. I flicked through them quickly, but none of them seemed to deal with Goravitch. Nonetheless, once the device had finished copying the hard drive, I replaced it around my neck and flicked quickly through the pages, recording them on camera.

I glanced around the room, but there didn’t appear to be any other likely stores of information. I chewed my lip. Now for the hard part. I was going to have to venture downstairs. I remembered the dark offices I had noticed in the bunker when I had been looking for Melanie. If anywhere was going to contain information about the devil, it was inside his own lair. At least, thanks to Madame B, I knew he wasn’t currently in residence.

I tidied up after myself, relocking the desk drawer, and quietly slid back into the ballroom. Hearing approaching footsteps, I once more assumed the pose of someone lost in introspection, staring at a point in the centre of the floor. The footsteps hesitated as a different guard paused, looking curiously at me.

I glanced up and frowned as though irritated to have my thoughts interrupted.

“Sorry, Agent Romanova,” the man whispered hurriedly. He deferentially bobbed his head and moved on.

As soon as his footsteps disappeared down the corridor, I headed purposefully for the hidden door to the bunker and padded noiselessly down the stairs. I felt a disorientating surge of déjà vu as I walked swiftly down the white corridor to the steel door.

I made my way quickly to the rooms I remembered being offices, not wasting any time trying to look innocent. I doubted Goravitch would allow cameras down here, in his little kingdom. He was as much of a control freak as Madame B. But I didn’t dare linger down here long. I sneaked into the first room, pulling out the led torch again. Reactivating the recorder, I worked my way through the filing cabinets methodically, turning pages quickly without attempting to read anything, trying to capture as much information as possible on camera. We could sift through it all when I got back. The tactic here was not to worry about what was or was not important, but just focus on recording everything I could get my hands on as fast as possible. As well as the cabinets, there were three desks squeezed into the room, each with a computer. I downloaded each of their hard drives, supressing the urge to fidget while I waited. Last one completed, I snatched up the pendent and sidled into the next room along.

I glanced around and inwardly cursed, wishing I had checked this room first. It was more opulent than the first, and showed signs of a single inhabitant; one desk and a lone computer. This was clearly Goravitch’s own domain. I risked switching on the light long enough to take a good panning shot of the room, then flicked it back off again. Pulling out my tiny torch once more, I decided to start with the desk, again picking the lock on the drawer. A neatly stacked pile of handwritten notebooks lay within. I pulled them all out and flicked through them as quickly as possible. Ensuring I put them back exactly as they were, I relocked the drawer and glanced longingly between the filing cabinet and the computer, but an agonised squint at my watch told me I was out of time. I had to get out of the bunker before there was anyone around to witness my leaving. It was intensely frustrating, but I would have to go, and wait for another opportunity to sneak down here.

I tidied up quickly and threaded my way swiftly back out of the bunker, along the white corridor and up the stairs. I slid out of the hidden door, closing it quietly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to wander around, Natalia,” a cold voice said behind me.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat.

Slowly, I turned and met the stony gaze of Madame B.

“What were you doing down there?” she asked, her voice dangerously smooth.

I bowed my head, my heart hammering. If she had known what I was doing, she wouldn’t be interrogating me. I would already be dead.

“I’m sorry, Madame,” I answered. “I couldn’t sleep. Being back in the West Wing... I’m finding I am remembering things… things I did not remember before.” She followed my glance to the hidden door. “I wished to know if what I remembered was true.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What did you remember?”

I swallowed. “Pain,” I replied softly. “Pain and death…”

I had the odd sense that my answer somehow pleased her. Her gaze softened a minute fraction. “A tool must be tested before it is put to use,” she reminded me. “Just like your graduation ceremony, the process was necessary.”

I dropped my eyes once more. “Yes, Madame.”

She studied me thoughtfully for a long moment. I tried not to hold my breath. Finally she turned away.

“Go get some rest, Natalia,” she ordered. “I expect you to be alert when we evaluate the girl. I will send Tanya to fetch you.”

I nodded submissively. “Yes, Madame.”

I held in my sigh of relief as she walked away.

Returning to my room in the West Wing, I collapsed on the bed, allowing myself the luxury of trembling with reaction. That had been way too close!

Thinking over what I had found, I debated with myself whether we should just end the mission now. It was going to be near impossible for me to sneak back into the bunker after this. Madame B might have accepted my excuse once, but it wasn’t going to work a second time, and she would now be alert for me wandering around. Maybe we should just cut our losses, get back to our own time while we had the chance. Wanda was right next door, unguarded. We could be gone in seconds. I could be back in Melanie’s arms in minutes…

The temptation was almost overwhelming.

But we only had one shot at this. If what I had gotten tonight wasn’t enough, I would kick myself. We still had plenty of time before our deadline. We needed as much information as we could get, and I hadn’t finished searching Goravitch’s office. I couldn’t in good conscience back out now.

I growled softly in frustration. Resigning myself to the need to stay, I decided to take Madame B’s advice. If I didn’t get some rest I was going to start making mistakes, and Wanda’s life, as well as my own, depended on a flawless performance.

Yawning, I stripped off my clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a heap, turned out the light and got under the covers, wishing I were in my own bed, curled around Melanie’s warm body. It was amazing how quickly I had become accustomed to another person in my bed. Now I found it difficult to sleep without her. Not to mention the other benefits of having a partner that I had grown accustomed to. I was no longer used to going so long without indulging my physical needs, and my body was letting me know in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t happy about it. Groaning, I finally pulled a pillow alongside my body, wrapping my arm around it. Imagining that I held Melanie in my arms, I eventually drifted to sleep.


	10. 10.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unforeseen complication puts Natasha to the test.

I woke at the gentle tap on the door.

I sat up, rubbing gritty eyes. “Enter.”

Tanya opened the door and stepped into the room. Her eyes widened, and I belatedly remembered I had gone to sleep not wearing anything. I resisted the urge to yank the covers to my chin. Her stare made me uncomfortable, but the woman I had been back then wouldn’t have cared. Tanya hurriedly averted her eyes. “Natalia,” she said. “The girl is awake. Madame B wishes you to bring her back to the ballroom.”

I nodded. Casually, I covered myself with the sheet as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Very well. Has she eaten?”

“No.”

“See that she does. I don’t want her passing out. I will be there in a moment.”

Tanya bobbed her head and left.

I quickly freshened up and dressed, making sure I looked a match for my reputation. I needed every advantage I could muster. Then I marched next door.

Wanda was sat at the table, eating rye bread and sausage.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked her, sitting down across from her and taking a piece of bread.

She nodded, her mouth full.

I looked at Tanya. “Please inform Madame B we will be down in a few minutes.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgement and left.

I looked at Wanda, picking at my bread. “Madame B would like you to show her a little more of what you can do. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

She nodded shyly. “Do you really think I’m special?”

“I know you are,” I said decisively. “But Madame B needs to know exactly what you can do, so she will know how best to help you. So I need to you to do everything she asks you to do, as best you can, but don’t be afraid to tell her if you can’t do something.”

 _They are going to start their evaluation today_ , I explained silently. _They may push you, to see what you do. Be prepared for anything._

She followed me silently down the oak staircase and back into the ballroom.

Madame B and Vladimir awaited, Madame B expressionless as usual, Vladimir with a falsely bright smile. I leaned casually against the piano as they put Wanda through a progressive series of tasks designed to test the limits of her powers. She cooperated, although glancing at me frequently as if to reassure herself that I was still there. I nodded approvingly every time she did this, wiping my expression back to cool indifference when she looked away. In reality I was watching her efforts critically, guiding her with my thoughts as to whether she should manage the task easily or pretend to find it difficult. I wanted them to realise she was powerful, but not _how_ powerful. She needed some tricks left up her sleeve in case things went horribly wrong.

I watched, increasingly tense, as they steered her through mere manual manipulation, to defence, and finally to offence.

“What would you do if men with guns came at you now, Wanda?” Vladimir asked, eyes gleaming. “Show us.”

Half a dozen masked men entered the room carrying automatic rifles.

Wanda gave a squeak of panic and repeated her tactic from the warehouse, a wave of crimson smoke ripping the weapons out of their hands.

“Good, good, Wanda,” Vladimir said approvingly. A hint of calculation entered his expression. “But the men are still able to harm you, even without their guns. Is there not something you could do to stop them?”

Wanda shivered. Gestured again. The guns floated up into the air, swung haltingly to aim at the men, who glanced at each other and slowly put up their hands.

“Excellent,” Vladimir practically purred.

“Can you just move the guns, child?” Madame B asked softly. “Or can you fire them?”

Wanda blanched, looking at her in fear.

“Don’t worry, child, the bullets aren’t real,” Vladimir said soothingly. “Go ahead. See if you can pull the triggers.”

Wanda looked at me. The fear and revulsion in her eyes made my heart twist. She could read their thoughts. She knew Vladimir was lying. And if she refused to shoot, after being told the guns were harmless, they might begin to suspect that she could tell when they were lying. We couldn’t risk that. It might push her over the edge from dangerous but useful, to dangerous and a threat. But if she said she _couldn’t_ shoot, they might decide she wasn’t useful _enough_.

I suddenly wished desperately that I had given in to the impulse to run home last night. It was my fault she was being subjected to this. I couldn’t ask her to kill them. They probably deserved it, but she didn’t. My mind raced, analysing the options, and made a quick decision.

I gave her my usual reassuring nod, for the benefit of my two avidly watching superiors. _Shoot, but miss_ , I ordered in my head. _They will be happy enough for now that you can pull the trigger. You don’t need to be a crack shot._

Wanda looked back at the floating guns, then at the disarmed men. Her brow furrowed with decision.

The men cringed as the guns fired. My eyes widened of their own volition as all six of them cried out and collapsed. What had she done?

Then they all groaned in pain, writhing on the floor, and I realised with a shock of relief that she hadn’t killed them. A closer look revealed all of them had painful and debilitating injuries, to the arms, shoulder or legs. One clearly had a shattered kneecap. None of the wounds were lethal, but she had still effectively removed six potential combatants if we had to fight our way out.

 _Remind me never to piss you off_ , I thought in stunned admiration.

I glanced at Vladimir. I could tell he was as surprised as I was by this development. He was not displeased, but I could see that calculating mind of his working again, wondering if the disabling shots were deliberate or just coincidence.

“Excellent,” Madame B intoned smoothly. “Very good indeed, Wanda. I think that will be all for now. Natalia will take you back to your room. You must still be very tired after your ordeal.” She gave me a significant look.

I supressed a sigh. They had clearly decided my idea to sedate her was a wise move. Wanda was not going to love me for that, but at least it wasn’t anything worse.

I smiled at Wanda. “Come along,” I said with forced cheerfulness. “Let’s see if Tanya can rustle up some more food.”

She nodded, her eyes still on the men she had taken down, who were still groaning.

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” I said lightly. “They’re just being big babies. You know what men are like. Make a huge fuss about a tiny little sting.” I allowed myself a smirk at their indignant, murderous expressions as I ushered her out of the room.

I escorted her back to the West Wing. Tanya was already there, another meal waiting, another glass of fruit juice beside Wanda’s plate. She looked at it in resignation once I dismissed Tanya.

I silently apologised. I imagined she felt like a calf being fattened for slaughter. But it was still better than the alternatives. I remembered the electric shock machine Goravitch had used to keep Melanie’s powers supressed, keeping her in constant pain while leather straps and iron manacles had held her down.

Wanda blanched slightly, and hurriedly reached for the juice.

 _That a girl_ , I thought fondly. _Don’t worry, you won’t have to do this much longer._

She rested her eyes casually on the pendent around my neck and raised an eyebrow ever so slightly as she gulped the juice.

I ran my mind over my activities the night before.

 _I need to find out more_ , I thought. _I didn’t have time to finish recording everything. We’ll have to stay a little longer, and hope I get chance to sneak back down there._

Her eyes widened slightly at my memory of being caught by Madame B. Her eyes were fearful beneath the drooping lids. I had her time travel device. If I was captured or killed, she would be stuck here.

She shot me a slightly reproachful glance.

 _I know you’re not just worried about yourself,_ I said in my head. _I know you don’t want anything to happen to me either. It’s okay. I’d be terrified of the prospect of being stuck here too. I’ll be careful._

She got into bed, yawning. I didn’t need her gifts to read the thought in the loaded glance she sent me before closing her eyes.

_You’d better be._

_*****_

Once Wanda was deeply under once more, I headed back to my room, thinking I might as well catch up on a little sleep myself while I had the chance. I had nothing better to do right now, and what with all the worrying and plotting and sneaking around, I had had very little rest lately. I didn’t dare try another foray downstairs with reflexes slowed by fatigue.

I shut the curtains to block out the daylight, leaving the room in a dim sort of twilight that was quite cosy. Not wanting to crumple the only clothing I currently had by sleeping in it, I was in the process of removing it before getting into bed when the gentle tap came again.

I sighed, recognising the knock. What now?

“Come in, Tanya,” I called softly.

She opened the door, blinking slightly in the gloom, and glanced around. Finding me sitting on the bed in my underwear, she smiled. To my surprise, she shut the door behind her and locked it.

Suddenly I wished I had left my clothes on. “What are you doing, Tanya?” I asked warily.

She shrugged, walking towards me. Halting a few feet away, she raised her eyes.

“I told you, I am at your disposal.” She smiled, tentatively. “I saw the way you looked at me. I thought, perhaps, you might enjoy seeing a little more of me…” She opened her shirt and shrugged it off. She wore nothing beneath it. She loosed her dark hair over her shoulders, then raised her chin, as though displaying herself for my appraisal.

I found myself rooted to the spot, so astonished at this development that for a moment I was unable to do anything but gape. I had spent weeks agonising over this mission, trying to plan for every conceivable contingency that might throw a spanner in the works. But the one thing I had _not_ considered was the possibility that an extremely attractive trainee would invite herself into my room and start taking her clothes off! My eyes seemed to act without my conscious direction, travelling over her curves. She was beautiful, magnificent even. Her breasts were full and firm, her nipples delicate and a soft pink, like rose-buds. Her creamy skin flowed over a flat stomach and perfectly sculpted muscles. I had never seen skin so pristinely unblemished, without a scar or a mole or a birthmark. The only mark on her was a very small tattoo just visible over her waistband on her left hip. A stylised line drawing of a sun rising over two hills. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it struck me as odd that she would have a tattoo, but I didn’t have chance for more than a fleeting thought. The next moment, I was thoroughly distracted as she straddled my knees and pressed her lips firmly against mine. Her breasts were hot against my skin; her hands raked up my back.

Unthinkingly, my body responded, a surge of desire momentarily overriding my brain. I pulled her tightly to me, returning her kiss with a passion more intense than I had experienced with anyone save Melanie…

Melanie!

I came abruptly to my senses. What the hell was I doing? Horrified, I shoved the girl away from me, landing her in a shocked heap on the floor as I stood up and backed hurriedly away, quickly turning my back to hide my expression.

 _It’s not just Melanie!_ I couldn’t help thinking in shock. _You really_ do _prefer women!_ I thrust the thought aside, cursing myself harshly. I had no time for an identity crisis right now. My mind churned as I feverishly tried to think of a reasonable explanation for my behaviour. Fortunately, in this place, I didn’t have to look very far.

“Natalia?” Tanya said softly, her voice confused. “Is something wrong?”

“Damn right something’s wrong,” I said coldly. I spun around and glared at her. “What the hell do you think you were doing? Are you trying to get me killed?”

She stared at me, rising to her feet with a grace that made me ache. “What do you mean?” she stammered. “I thought…”

“Thought?” I said scathingly. “You weren’t thinking at all! Have you any idea what Madame would do to me for this, to both of us? It’s forbidden! She’ll have our heads in a jar on her mantlepiece!”

Her expression cleared. “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have explained. Madame sent me to you.”

I blinked, all the wind abruptly taken out of my sails. That was the very last response I had expected. “She… _what_?”

“Don’t you see? She is very pleased with you, for finding the girl.” Tanya unfastened her trousers and let them fall to the floor. I found myself wondering if she usually went without underwear, or whether the omission was purely for my benefit. “I’m your reward.”

My head felt like it was spinning. “But,” I protested, feeling something akin to panic, “how could she know…?”

How could she possibly know about a preference I had only discovered more than eighteen years into the future?

Tanya looked down with a shrug. “I told her.”

“What! _Why_?” I demanded hoarsely, staring at her in complete disbelief. What the hell had I done to this girl to deserve such vindictiveness? “Why would you tell her that? You know they don’t tolerate such things!” I tensed, instinctively searching for the retribution logic told me had to be coming…

“Not usually, no, but it’s you.” She rolled her eyes at my reaction. “Relax. You’re her star graduate, her most prized pupil. You bring her status and power, she’s hardly going to execute you, not even for this. In fact, you should be thanking me. She was going to send you one of the males for your pleasure. She asked me which one I thought you would prefer, so I told her that if you had the choice, you would probably prefer a female…”

“When was this?”

“This morning, before I came to wake you.”

My eyes narrowed. Despite her assurances, I was less than convinced that my old mentor would have taken the news as lightly as she claimed. Homosexuality was a complete taboo in this organisation, considered unnatural, an abomination outside the natural order, and more to the point, outside their regime of rigid control. Such a defect made a person unpredictable, and that was not to be tolerated for an instant. By any reasonable expectation, I should have been executed on the spot. I found the idea that I was valuable enough to escape immediate punishment difficult to accept. It was not in Madame B’s nature to be forgiving. Something else was going on here. “And how did she react?” I asked suspiciously.

She shrugged. “She seemed a little surprised,” she rolled her eyes again, “or at least, she went quiet for a minute. I won’t say she went as far as an actual facial expression.” She flushed slightly. “Then she asked me if you found me attractive, so I told her yes, I believed so, and she told me that in that case, I should ensure that _all_ your needs were met.” I suppressed a shiver as she moved closer. “You _do_ find me attractive, don’t you?”

Her eyes were all too knowing. Considering what had just happened, it was a little late to convince her that she wasn’t my type.

“Perhaps,” I admitted, forcing myself to meet her gaze steadily. “But I don’t need someone to be sent to warm my bed like an extra blanket. I prefer willing partners, if you don’t mind.”

She came closer still. “What gave you the impression I wasn’t willing?” she murmured.

“You’re just a kid,” I retorted. I tried to back away some more, but I had run out of room. “You’ve never left the Red Room. How can you possibly know what you want?” Lord knew, it had taken _me_ long enough to find out…

She snorted derisively. “No-one is a kid for long in this place, you know that. Besides, I’m not that much younger than you. And I’ve known about my preferences for a long time. So has Madame.” She looked down, her lips pressing into a hard line. “She caught me with another girl, two years ago.”

My eyes widened. “And she let you live?” I said incredulously.

She shrugged. “I convinced her I was worth making an exception for.”

My brow furrowed. This seemed extremely unlikely to me. “And the other girl?” I asked suspiciously.

She averted her eyes. Oh. My stomach twisted. That was just sick.

“She still isn’t exactly happy about it,” she continued with forced lightness. “That’s partly why I haven’t graduated yet. She’s taking extra time to evaluate me, ensure I will… perform… adequately when necessary.”

I stared at her, feeling a stab of pity. I wondered what it must be like to be required to lie with a man without ever gaining a crumb of pleasure from the experience.

She stroked my face, her eyes devouring me hungrily. “I’ve been taught to please a man,” she said softly. “But I don’t _want_ to. Not like I want to please you. I might have been ordered to your bed, but… I would have come to you anyway, if you asked. With or without Madame’s permission.” Gently, she took my hand and took a step back towards the bed. “Seen as we _have_ permission, there’s no reason we can’t both enjoy your reward…”

 _There’s every reason!_ my mind rebelled. _I have a partner, I’m in love, and you are not her…_

 _Wrong_ , said another part of my brain. _Natasha Romanoff has a partner, Natasha Romanoff is in love, but that isn’t who you are right now. Natalia Romanova_ _doesn’t know what love is. Natalia Romanova just takes pleasure where she finds it… and if she doesn’t take it now, Tanya will have to report that. Madame B will be suspicious. She’s already suspicious. You can’t give her any more excuses to suspect you aren’t what you seem…_

 _I don’t care! I can’t do this! I don’t want to do this!_ my mind screamed.

 _Don’t you?_ that other voice whispered.

Tanya smiled invitingly as I gazed at her in agony of indecision. She was so beautiful, and the unconcealed longing in her eyes made the ache in my body mount. My fingers twitched, yearning to reach out and touch.

 _You want her_ , came the whisper.

 _All the more reason not to do this!_ the other part of my mind responded frantically. _I can’t give in to this! I’ll be betraying Mel!_

 _You have to do this_ , that little voice whispered in my ear. _It’s the only way. Unless instead of bedding Tanya, you’d prefer to kill her instead? Because that’s what you’ll have to do, if you blow your cover now._

My stomach lurched. The thought of killing the girl made me feel physically ill, but even if I just knocked her unconscious while I grabbed Wanda and made our escape, her life would be forfeit anyway when my duplicity was discovered. Madame might have inexplicably allowed her to live once, with no witnesses, but now? With at least one member of the Brethren fully aware of Wanda’s existence, Madame would suffer considerable embarrassment and loss of status for losing her, and Tanya would bear the brunt of her wrath. If I ran away now, I would be responsible for her death. And so, indirectly, would Melanie. How would that be fair, to lay such a burden on her shoulders? And did Tanya really deserve to deserve to die for manoeuvring me into this impossible position? She had seen an opportunity for us to get what she assumed we both wanted; I could hardly blame her for taking it. Had our situations been reversed, I would probably have leapt just as eagerly for this one, seemingly miraculous chance to indulge my true desires without fear of penalty. How could I punish her for that?

 _You’ll be as bad as them, condemning her to death, just because she desired another woman… Would it be so wrong to let her experience what she truly wants, just once? To give her one memory of pleasure to help her through all the nights ahead when she must lie with a man and pretend to enjoy it, when in reality she will feel revulsion_ …

I swallowed hard, feeling trapped.

Tanya reached out and touched my cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured gently. “Really it is. I promise, you won’t be punished.”

I almost laughed. _Oh yes I will_ , I thought despairingly. _I’m going to suffer for this for the rest of my life…_

Tanya backed away towards the bed. Slowly, not quite sure why, I followed her. She smiled. Pulling me closer, she kissed me. The feel of her lips, the warmth of her naked body, the faint perfume coming off her skin… My blood burned, on fire with need so intense I could no longer bear it. Her hands caressed my back, unhooked my bra and slipped it from my shoulders. She lay back on the bed, and with a faint moan of surrender I sank down atop her, heat infusing my flesh as our bare breasts touched. I kissed her feverishly, and she responded with passion.

 _You’re enjoying this too much_ , a quiet voice warned. _Melanie will be devastated…_

 _It’s all part of being undercover_ , argued the other voice, the voice of Natalia. _You have to play the part. Tanya will notice if you don’t enjoy yourself. Relax. Go with it. Melanie will understand. She will forgive you._

Tanya’s hand slid up my thigh, making me gasp. Resolutely, I pushed Natasha Romanoff and her love to the deepest corner at the back of my mind, allowing Natalia Romanova to come to the fore. As I hungrily kissed Tanya’s perfect skin, I ignored the last, anguished thought echoing from that dark recess.

_But will you be able to forgive yourself?_

****

The girl stirred.

I turned my head on the pillow, roused from a half-doze.

Tanya smiled. The sheet fell away from her body as she stretched languidly. I lazily admired her perfectly sculpted form.

“I should go,” she murmured, though she made no move to get up.

“Why?” I countered. I didn’t want her to leave. Most assuredly, I did _not_ want to be left alone with my guilty thoughts right now. “I thought you were at my disposal?” I pouted, stroking her breast lightly. “The girl will sleep for hours yet.”

Her smile widened. “I’m sorry,” she purred, pressing her body against mine. “Did I not meet your needs sufficiently?”

Casting my mind back over the last couple of hours, I reflected that I could hardly complain of that. She might lack experience, but she more than made up for it with enthusiasm. “You were perfectly satisfactory,” I told her, smiling. “I’m enjoying your company. So stay and talk a while.”

Her brows rose. “You want to talk?”

I shrugged a little self-consciously. “You realise how rare it is to have a conversation that I’m not required to memorise?”

She chuckled. “I wouldn’t know.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Didn’t Madame tell you? I memorise everything.”

I pulled away from her, studying her intently, both intrigued and suddenly wary. “What do you mean, everything?”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean everything. If I see it or hear it, I remember it. I don’t do it on purpose, it just happens. I can’t forget anything.”

“A photographic memory?” I murmured, slightly awed. “I thought that was just a myth. I didn’t think it was actually possible…”

She snorted. “Yeah well, I’m special.” She smiled bitterly. “Isn’t that what you told Wanda? That this is a school for special people…”

“How does it work?” I asked, fascinated. “Do you just remember what you notice, what you’re paying attention to? Or is it like playing back a video? Can you look back and see things you didn’t see at the time?”

“I see everything, all the time,” she said matter-of-factly. She looked slightly frustrated. “It’s hard to explain…” She paused, searching for words.

“Can you give me an example?” I asked.

She pursed her lips, considering. “Five years, five months, six days, four hours and twenty-three minutes ago, you were outside on the lawn with Madame. I saw you out of the window as I went down the main staircase. She was wearing a white suit and a string of forty-three pearls. You were wearing your senior trainee greys, and there was a small tear in your left sleeve. She handed you a Glock with a 12-bullet magazine. She started the timer on a gold stopwatch in her left hand, and in the three seconds I dared to watch you took out two targets. The first one was two feet to the left of the oak tree, and your shot was approximately half a centimetre to the right of dead centre. The second was –”

“You got all that just from glancing out of a window?” I gasped, astonished. “Five _years_ ago?” I stared at her in awe, marvelling at the level of detail she took in. If she processed so much data from a few seconds exposure, how much did she take in in a day? In a week? A year? I tried to imagine being bombarded with every tiny detail of my surroundings, every minute of every day, and floundered. And she could never forget any of it! It made my head hurt to think of all that information packed inside her mind, endless data piling up and up and up… how did her head not burst? It reminded me of Melanie and the way she saw things, her ability to memorise the molecular blueprint of a living being down to the tiniest detail, trillions upon trillions of atoms… I shied away from the thought. I didn’t want to think about Melanie right now. I hurriedly pursued my previous train of thought.

Tanya’s incredible memory would certainly explain why Madame had allowed her to live. Such a gift was a formidable asset, not something she would squander for something as petty as a sexual preference, especially as the one other witness was a simple matter to remove. It also explained why Madame was allowing _this_ little tryst, I thought grimly. It no longer mattered that I had removed the surveillance devices from the room, not when the girl in my bed was effectively recording every move I made.

She shrugged. “I told you, I can’t help it, it’s just how my brain works.” She flushed. “Although I admit, I maybe payed a little more attention because it was you.”

I glanced sharply at her, but she avoided my eyes.

“And you never forget _anything_?” I asked, firmly ignoring her comment, though it troubled me.

Tanya shook her head, smiling faintly. “Nope. I will never forget this…” Her fingers lightly stroked my hips. “Or this…” she whispered, touching her lips to my breast.

“I don’t think I will either,” I murmured, shivering with guilty pleasure as her warm mouth travelled over my skin. I pulled her closer, running my hands over her body, then paused, distracted, my finger stroking the small tattoo on her hip.

“Why do you have a tattoo?” I asked curiously.

Tanya shrugged. “I’ve always had it. I was marked when I was born.”

I eyed her dubiously. “Don’t tell me you remember that!”

She shook her head fervently. “No, thank god. Can you imagine remembering being born? All that pain and squeezing and screaming?” She shuddered. “I’m spared that. I guess my brain wasn’t developed enough. My memories start about a year old, I think. I remember learning to walk. They weren’t as detailed back then, but I guess I was only interested in simple things. Food. Warmth. Shiny things. Stuff like that. I started to… take in more… when I was about two. From that point, I remember everything.”

“So you know how old you are,” I observed, surprised.

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m eighteen.” She shrugged. “Give or take a few months. I don’t know my exact date of birth, but I know exactly how long it’s been since my memories began, so I count from there. Assuming I was a year old then, I’ll be nineteen in April.” She frowned. “Don’t you know how old you are?”

I shook my head broodingly. “My memory doesn’t work like yours. I can recall facts, information, conversations, everything I set myself to remember… all that stuff is meticulously filed away, and yet my own personal history is… hazy. Days and years all blur together. Training on top of training, mission after mission.” Uncomfortable, I tried to change the subject. “Do you remember your parents?”

“No,” she said shortly. “I remember the orphanage in Moscow. I remember being brought here…” She trailed off, her expression darkening. Of course, if she couldn’t forget anything, she would have a vast plethora of evil memories cluttering up her brain. Memories she could never supress, unlike me.

Pained, wishing I had never asked, I sought to distract her from dark thoughts, rolling her onto her back and straddling her. “That’s enough talking, don’t you think?” I murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

She laughed softly, eagerly responding.

After that, neither of us had breath to spare for conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know! Don't be angry with me please, I did warn you that Natasha and Melanie's journey wasn't going to be simple.


	11. 11.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha finds herself under attack from a completely unexpected quarter, and wrestles with the high price this mission is extracting, as the Red Room and its sinister head tighten their grip on her soul.

I did not get much sleep that night.

Once Tanya finally left, judgement descended like a hammer blow. I wretchedly tossed and turned for hours, miserable with guilt and remorse. No matter how many times I told myself that what I had done was necessary, I could not escape the excruciating knowledge that I had enjoyed it far more than I ought. Tanya’s eager young body had pleased me; her moans of delight as I had stimulated her to climax had excited me in ways I had thought only one person could. Even after a whole afternoon of indulging ourselves, my body still ached for more, and I honestly couldn’t have said which pair of arms it craved most.

Eventually I gave up on sleep and spent the rest of the night pacing in front of the fire, trying to think. The ramifications of yesterdays events were far reaching, but my most immediate problem was Wanda. There was no way I was going to be able to keep what had happened from her, not now, when she was so attuned to my mind. She was going to find out, and it was essential she didn’t blow her own cover in the process. I had to find some way of containing her inevitable fury, at least until we got home. Both our lives depended on it.

Finally, at the first glimmerings of daylight, I rose and slipped next door.

Wanda was still sleeping. I gazed at her thoughtfully, then quietly built up the fire that had died down to embers, and settled myself in a chair beside it, waiting. A short time later, signs of restlessness told me Wanda was waking up.

 _Don’t open your eyes,_ I thought intently at her. _Pretend you’re still asleep. If you can hear me, move your right hand._

Wanda gave a sleepy little sigh and snuggled more deeply into the pillow, pulling her right hand towards her face.

 _Good girl_ , I thought. I sighed inwardly. _I need to tell you something. You’re going to be very, very angry with me, but you have to save it till we get home, and stay in character. If you slip, we’re both going to die._

She stilled.

Still staring into the fire as though waiting for her to wake, I supressed a wince and ran my mind as briefly as possible over the events of the previous afternoon.

A tiny, muffled choke came from the bed.

I resisted the urge to glance over there and kept my eyes on the flames. _Stay still!_ I ordered. _Don’t move. I know you want to throttle me right now, and believe me I’m not happy with myself either. I had no choice. Madame B knows me too well, she knows I’m hiding something. Hopefully, sleeping with Tanya will convince her_ that’s _what I was keeping from her, and she won’t bother trying to dig any deeper._

There was neither sound nor movement from the bed, but I could feel Wanda’s fury.

 _Please, Wanda_ , I begged silently. _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this. I had no choice. The only other option was to abort the mission, but then Tanya would die. You know what it’s like here, you know there is no tolerance for failure. Either I would have had to kill her to get us away, or they would kill her later for failing to stop me. Melanie would never want someone to die, not for her sake. You know that._

Wanda didn’t move, but the anger radiating from her direction lessened ever so slightly.

 _I swear, I will tell Melanie everything_ , I promised. _I am faithful to her, I swear. I would never try to hide this from her. It was just sex, it meant nothing. Just like all the men I slept with before when I was undercover meant nothing. I did it to keep us alive. She will understand that._

Wanda sighed quietly. I hoped that was a sign of agreement.

 _Give yourself a minute_ , I told her. _When you feel like you can get back into character, you need to wake up. Tanya will be here with breakfast shortly. Be warned, she is_ extremely _perceptive. She will notice if you’re angry with me. Or with her. So you can’t let on, not with so much as a glance, that you know what happened. No matter what she’s thinking_. I leaned closer to the fire to conceal an involuntary flush at what Tanya’s thoughts would no doubt be dwelling upon.

I had to give Wanda due credit. When she finally yawned and stretched, apparently rousing from sleep, there was no sign of the outrage I knew was still burning in her breast. She contributed to our usual small talk, and when Tanya made her appearance with breakfast, she spoke to her perfectly amicably, although she kept her eyes on her food.

Relieved that she was managing to keep her anger locked away, I dismissed the girl as quickly as possible, and made our usual meaningless conversation while determinedly focussing my thoughts on how I was going to get back into Goravitch’s lair. It was at least a sticky enough problem that it kept my mind off Tanya. Thanks to my blunder with Madame B, it was too dangerous to openly go anywhere near it again, and sneaking around in this place was a sure way to get killed. Normally that would be the signal for me to simply force my way in, taking out anyone who tried to stop me, but in this situation I didn’t dare, not knowing if I might inadvertently create some hideous alternate reality. Under no circumstances must I do anything to significantly alter the natural course of events.

With an inward growl of frustration, I concluded that the only feasible course of action for the time being was to do nothing. We still had time, and Madame B had plenty to occupy her at the moment. If I did nothing suspicious, eventually she would cease watching me so closely, and I would be able to get what we came for.

Wanda shot me a heated look, her back to the hidden camera, and I firmly resolved to avoid Tanya as much as possible.

That however, turned out to be easier said than done.

After a morning spent watching Wanda demonstrate her ability to manipulate various substances, Madame B sent her back to her room, and called me to her sitting room.

This time I was not offered a seat.

“So,” she said quietly, seating herself at her desk and examining me intently.

I stood stock still, resisting the urge to squirm under her relentless stare.

“I trust you enjoyed your reward?” she said eventually.

I swallowed hard, keeping my face impassive with an effort. “Yes Madame. Thank you.”

“I must say, I was surprised. You showed no sign that your taste ran in such directions while you were here.”

I winced at the icy tone of disapproval. “I didn’t know then.”

She pursed her lips. “So someone on the outside led you astray…” She looked at me pointedly.

“A woman I met while undercover,” I lied. I bowed my head in feigned shame. “I’m sorry, Madame, I knew you would not approve, I tried to resist, but… I couldn’t help myself. She was beautiful… and I wanted her.”

Madame B’s eyes narrowed. “And where is this woman now?”

I felt vaguely sick, but there was only one answer I could give. Though this was all fiction, I knew exactly what Natalia Romanova would have done to keep such a secret.

“I killed her,” I said quietly.

Her brows rose ever so slightly. Her lips twitched, surprised but not entirely displeased. “How many others?”

I hesitated, my brain working feverishly, spinning through my past life to find moments I could conceivably have spent in illicit affairs. Clearly she would not believe me if I said there had been no others, but fabricating more was dangerous. I had no idea how closely she had watched me back then; what details of my life outside these walls she might know. To be caught in a lie now would be fatal.

“Do not lie to me, Natalia,” Madame said softly, as though reading my thoughts. Her eyes glinted malevolently.

I made a hasty decision. “Two,” I said slowly, reluctantly. “One in South America, and one not long ago, a dancer in the club I worked at in Kiev, the woman whose apartment I took.” I took a deep breath and raised my gaze. “They’re dead too.”

“I see.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Your dedication to keeping your secret is commendable. As is the number of males you have seduced in order to hide your true nature.”

I blinked in surprise, but if that was how she wanted to interpret my behaviour, I wasn’t going to contradict her. “I didn’t want to disappoint you,” I said instead, neither confirming nor denying her conclusion.

She smiled faintly. “I must admit your efforts were successful; I had no suspicions about your preferences before yesterday, and that makes my decision somewhat easier. The Brethren would not look upon your choices with favour, Natalia, but I see no need for them to be enlightened. No weapon, no matter how finely honed, is without some small flaw. I am pleased that you have not allowed yours to compromise the quality of your work. Now tell me,” she continued, changing tack abruptly. “What do you think of Tanya?”

I blinked warily. “Madame?”

She regarded me intently, her eyes glittering. “You have spent time with her. Your evaluation please.”

I considered for a long moment, and decided there was nothing to be gained from pretending. “She is… remarkable,” I conceded finally. “In her way, I think she is as unique as Wanda.”

“Indeed.” Madame B permitted me a rare, cold smile. “And as unique as you are.”

I frowned, confused. “I don’t understand. I’m not gifted the way they are.”

“Oh, you underestimate yourself, Natalia,” Madame B replied softly. “You are every bit as special as they are, make no mistake. A fine example for them to follow.” She regarded me intently for a moment, as though waiting to see how I would react.

Unsure what response she was expecting, I remained silent.

It was hard to be sure, but I thought I saw a trace of disappointment cross her face before she continued. “Which is why I have decided to make Tanya your apprentice. She will benefit immeasurably from your experience.”

I stared at her, unable to completely supress my dismay. Trainees became apprenticed to a senior agent after graduation. After a lifetime of being sequestered within these walls, the guidance of a mentor was necessary to ensure a smooth transition into the outside world. It was the only period in the life of a KGB agent where one was expected to work so closely with another.

“You… you want me to take her out? She’s graduating?” I asked, smothering a flash of panic. If I was sent away from the Red Room now, we were in serious trouble.

“Not yet,” Madame said coldly, much to my relief. “She has yet to complete the tests, and I need you to continue your work with Wanda a little while longer. While the girl is sedated, however, you may as well finish Tanya’s training. See to it that she is prepared for what she will face.”

I swore internally. How was I supposed to accomplish my mission if I was saddled with an extraordinarily observant trainee? Not to mention the more personal complications…

Madame B misinterpreted my consternation. “Don’t concern yourself,” she said dismissively. “I am not unreasonable. I would not have given the girl to you last night if I was going to withdraw permission thereafter. Consider Tanya my gift to you. Enjoy her whenever you wish.”

 _Oh hellfire!_ I couldn’t believe my ears. Madame was actually encouraging this liaison?

I swallowed. “Madame, I… I…”

She held up a finger to silence me. “You have earned a little license, Natalia, but there are limits.” Her eyes glinted dangerously. “There will be no more of these secret trysts of yours. If you _must_ indulge these… unnatural urges… you will content yourself with Tanya, is that clear?”

I shivered at the distaste in her voice, and tried to seem grateful that she had merely decided to control my excesses, rather than execute me for them. “Yes, Madame.”

She surveyed me coldly. “I trust I don’t need to warn you to be discreet. I am prepared to overlook this unfortunate defect in both of you, but if it were to become common knowledge, I will be most displeased. Special or not, you will not survive my displeasure.”

I gulped, and nodded. “Yes Madame.”

Her eyes narrowed. “For the present, I would prefer you to remain within the West Wing unless I send for you. Tanya will continue to fetch your meals from the kitchen, and you are to use the facilities there for your instruction.” Her meaning could not be clearer. No more wandering around the building.

“Yes, Madame,” I repeated in resignation, mentally using every curse I knew. Assuming her words were a dismissal, I turned to go.

“I did not give you permission to leave,” Madame said quietly.

I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of dread. That tone uncovered more deeply buried memories, and feelings I thought I had long since extracted. My hand, frozen in the act of reaching to open the door, trembled on the doorknob.

“You may have done well, but that does not excuse the fact that you sought to deceive me.” Madame B rose to her feet, circling the desk. I could feel her malevolent gaze burning into my back. “You must be punished. You deserve to be punished. You know that, don’t you?”

My trembling intensified. Intense hatred boiled in my gut, and for a brief second I imagined turning on her. Raining down blows on her with every ounce of force I possessed, smashing that marble face into the desk and watching her skull crack open. But I could not. And though I told myself it was because I dared not risk the mission, could not disrupt the timestream, could not risk putting Wanda’s life in danger, I knew, as I turned slowly to face her, that none of those perfectly sound reasons was the real one. The chains this woman had wrapped around my soul were unbreakable. I could not raise a hand against her.

“Don’t you?” Madame B repeated softly.

I closed my eyes, and slowly lowered myself to my knees before her.

“Yes, Madame,” I whispered.

****

I made my way as quickly as I dared back to the West Wing, barely aware of where I was going. Unable to face Wanda right away, I hurried into my room. Closing the door, I collapsed back against it, hugging my knees and sliding to the floor. For a full minute I permitted myself the release of shaking uncontrollably, my mind tormented far more than my body from Madame B’s discipline. Then I forced myself to breathe slowly and calmly, regaining control. Gnawing my lip, I tried to think. What the hell was I going to do now?

Once again, I was severely tempted to abort the mission. Getting back into Goravitch’s lair had just gone from incredibly difficult to damn near impossible; Madame B seemed even more determined to dominate my every move than I remembered; and to add insult to injury, far from avoiding contact with Tanya, I was now practically shackled to her! And in a perverse twist that was typical of everything in this sick place, spurning Madame’s ‘gift’ would only lead to further punishment, leaving me no way to avoid further intimate entanglements.

I clutched my hair in desperation. This was a disaster. Surely no information I could get my hands on – assuming I could get my hands on any now I was under constant surveillance and effectively barred from the rest of the building – surely none of it was worth this! Melanie was going to be so terribly hurt…

 _But what will hurt her more?_ that little voice piped up again in the back of my mind. _You betraying her again in the past, or people suffering and dying in the future because your regard for her feelings cost you the chance to find and stop Goravitch? And what will hurt_ you _more? Betraying Melanie with another woman, or returning home empty-handed to live with the constant fear that Goravitch will one day successfully lure her out and take her again? How can you protect her if you cannot remove the threat?_

I let my face fall into my hands. There was no point torturing myself. As much as I hated it, I was committed to seeing this through. Even if the cost was mine and Melanie’s relationship, though I desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She had always understood me. I hoped she would be able to understand this.

At that moment, the wooden door at my back vibrated to Tanya’s quiet knock.

Resisting the urge to curse yet again, I took a moment to compose myself, then rose to my feet and let her in.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, eyeing me with faint concern. “Wanda said Madame wanted to see you.”

“She did,” I replied shortly.

She looked wary. “What about?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you?” I asked, more harshly than I intended.

A flicker of rebellion passed over her face, but she held her tongue, lowering her eyes submissively.

Her deference disturbed me; provoked a vivid flashback of the interview in Madame’s sitting room. Of my face buried in the carpet, grovelling at her feet, the thick weave muffling my whimpers of agony. The sweet torture of the pain she inflicted, hooking its claws deeply into my soul.

I supressed a shudder, pushing the memory away, burying it as deep as it could go and piling everything else on top of it. Even the confused and guilty longing I felt for Tanya was better than dwelling on the terrible mistake I may have made in coming back here.

“She wanted to see me about you,” I told Tanya, forcing my voice to calmness. “Congratulations. You are now my apprentice.”

Her head jerked up, and she stared at me, her eyes lighting up with incredulous delight. I couldn’t help but smile. Despite my lingering resentment for her putting me in this position in the first place, it felt good to make her happy. Lord knew, she would have had little reason to ever feel happiness before.

“I’m graduating?” she said eagerly. “I get to leave, with you?”

“Not quite,” I corrected her. “You still have to pass the tests before you’ll be allowed to graduate, but Madame thought, seen as I was here, I may as well take you on now and see you through the tests. I can’t imagine you have much left to learn, anyway.”

Her face fell slightly. She seemed to digest that for a moment, then smiled again. I frowned as she moved to kiss me.

“Not now,” I hissed, pulling away from her.

Her smile faltered. “Has Madame forbidden…?”

I gritted my teeth, wishing I could say yes, but the lie would be both easily discovered and suspicious at this point. “No,” I admitted.

She looked relieved.

“But we must be discreet,” I added sternly. “Madame is permitting it, but only as long as it remains secret. If anyone finds out, the consequences will be dire. The girl is next door, and she’s still awake.” I stood up. “Did you bring lunch?”

Tanya nodded, still looking at me a little askance.

I winced inwardly. As good as I was at masking my emotions, it wasn’t good enough to hide them from someone of her gifts. She sensed my reluctance, and was puzzled by it. A faint worry line appeared between her brows, and I felt a pang. I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

I relented, pulling her closer and offering a kiss in apology. “Soon,” I promised softly. Tanya responded with eager relief, her enthusiasm escalating the kiss to something far more passionate than I had intended. Feeling a flush of fierce desire as she pressed up against me, I found myself wondering how long it would be before Wanda’s sedative took effect and gave us some privacy…

Something like an explosion rocked the building, rattling the windows and causing us to spring apart abruptly.

“What the hell?” I swore.

“The girl!” Tanya exclaimed, dashing from the room.

I stared at the wall between mine and Wanda’s room, horrified. Clearly, my assumption that Wanda needed to be able to see me to read my thoughts was incorrect. Either that, or these walls were thinner than I thought.

“Shit!” I muttered helplessly, charging after Tanya.

Entering Wanda’s room, I found devastation. The furniture was all tossed against the walls, and the mirror that had concealed the surveillance camera was blown to smithereens. I risked a quick glance in that direction, but the device was buried under shards of glass.

Wanda was sprawled in the middle of the room, and Tanya was kneeling next to her.

“Are you all right?” she was asking, helping her sit up.

“Yes,” Wanda said weakly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened…”

“Did your powers do this?” Tanya asked.

I shot Wanda a warning glance, but she was avoiding my eyes.

“Yes,” Wanda said, looking appreciably miserable. “But I didn’t mean to. I was just sitting at the table, waiting for Natalia, and I remembered…” She shuddered and hugged herself tightly.

“What did you remember?” Tanya asked gently.

Wanda trembled, and, angry as I was with her right now, I still had to applaud her acting ability. “A man,” she whimpered. “He was holding me down on a table. He tried to –“

“Never mind,” Tanya cut her off hurriedly as more red smoke began to pour from Wanda’s body. “It’s all right, that man is dead. Natalia killed him, remember? She saved you. He can never hurt you again.”

The crimson smoke faded.

“You’re right,” Wanda said softly. “I’m sorry.”

The door opened, and Madame B swept into the room. Her eyes swept over the mess, and her lip curled in distaste. “What happened here?” she asked coldly.

“It was an accident, Madame,” I explained, more calmly than I felt. “Wanda remembered something that frightened her, and she lost control for a moment.”

“I’m so sorry, Madame,” Wanda said brokenly. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. I didn’t mean to…”

Madame B regarded her in silence for a long moment. I held my breath.

“That’s quite alright, my dear,” she said finally. “These things happen. You don’t need to be afraid, child.” She gestured to me, and I followed her out into the corridor.

“I expect you to keep her under better control than that,” she hissed malevolently as soon as the door was shut.

I winced, my stomach dropping like a stone at the prospect of more punishment. “I can hardly control her thoughts, Madame. She has suffered considerable trauma, and as I told you when we arrived, she reacts instinctively to perceived threats to her person, whether physically present or not.”

Madame B’s eyes narrowed.

I waited, my heart thumping.

“Get this cleaned up,” she ordered finally. “And sedate her as soon as possible in future.”

“Yes Madame,” I murmured. I kept my eyes lowered submissively as she swept off down the corridor. It took a shameful few seconds for my heartrate to slow.

Swearing under my breath, I turned back into Wanda’s room.

Tanya looked up, and raised her brows questioningly.

“Go collect a few helpers to clean this up,” I told her. I glanced at Wanda, who smiled innocently back at me. “We’ll have lunch in my room while this one is put to rights. Bring a fresh meal there.”

Tanya nodded and left.

I inclined my head at Wanda, inviting her to follow me next door. I glanced down the corridor, ensuring Tanya was well out of earshot, before shutting the door firmly and rounding on Wanda.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.

She slapped me round the face, and I gasped, shocked at the venom behind the blow.

“What do _I_ think I’m doing?” she hissed back. “What the hell do _you_ think you’re doing? If you think I’m going to stand back and let you betray Mel like this –“

“You make it sound like you have a choice!” I whispered furiously. “You don’t, and neither do I! You really think I want to do this to her?”

“Then don’t!” Wanda begged. “Let’s go back, right now! You got some information the first night, that will have to be enough!”

“And what if it’s not?” I demanded. “We have one shot at this. One.” I held up a finger for emphasis. “If we screw it up, there’s no second chances. I didn’t manage to finish searching his office. We know he has another facility now, and we need that location. If what’s on here so far,” I held up the pendent, “isn’t enough to find _our_ Goravitch and put a stop to whatever he’s planning, then a lot of people in the future are going to suffer. You really think Mel would prefer who knows how many people to die just so I can remain faithful to her?”

She bit her lip, her expression mulish.

“Wanda,” I whispered gently. “Please believe me, I don’t want this…”

She snorted. “Yeah right. I can read your mind, don’t forget. You can’t tell me you don’t want Tanya, because I know you do!”

I cast my eyes helplessly to the ceiling. “All right, yes, I do, I admit it. But I would still walk away, right now, if I could. I still choose Mel, always. I would never, ever choose to betray her, not with Tanya, not with anyone. But right now, we are both undercover, and our lives depend on that cover remaining intact. Madame B is already suspicious, that’s why she’s doing this, she’s using Tanya to keep a watch on me. And unless I can convince her that there’s nothing more sinister going on than me trying to hide a few forbidden love affairs, I’m not going to get anywhere near that goddamn bunker!” I glared at her. “And unless you keep it together, she’s going to decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth, and you’ll end up down there instead! So unless you _want_ to be dissected, keep a lid on it!”

“All right, all right, I’m sorry,” she muttered. “It was the only thing I could think of to give us a chance to talk freely…”

I listened intently, but there was no sound of Tanya returning yet, so I risked giving her a quick, tight hug. “I have to admit, it was brilliant,” I murmured with a smile. “You are a phenomenal little actress. Just don’t risk it again. I think Madame may skin me alive if you smash anything else without her permission!”

She shuddered. “That woman makes my skin crawl. I want to take a long, hot bath every time I’m anywhere near her.”

“Think yourself lucky you didn’t have to be raised by her,” I replied grimly.

“True.” She regarded me seriously, and ventured a tentative smile. “You know, it’s pretty amazing, how well you’ve turned out, considering you grew up here.” She scowled. “Even if your views on fidelity are warped beyond belief.” I grimaced as she pointed her finger in my face. “You’d better not ask me to keep this from her! I _will_ tell her.”

“You won’t need to,” I returned evenly. “I’ll tell her myself. I have no secrets from her. No matter what, I will tell her everything. She’ll understand. This is why spies don’t have relationships,” I added bitterly. “Being undercover can get complicated.”

“You’re not kidding,” she muttered under her breath. She sighed. “Fine. Do what you must, if you really think its necessary. But you’d better be careful. That girl has some complicated feelings for you.”

I raised an eyebrow, but before I could ask what she meant by that, I discerned the sound of footsteps returning up the corridor. I jerked my head, and Wanda hurriedly fled to a chair. I opened the door at her usual quiet knock, and Tanya carried a fresh tray of lunch into the room, setting down on my table.

“Here you go,” she said brightly, handing Wanda her glass of juice. “I’ve got a few people to come sort your room out. It will be spick and span before you know it. No harm done.”

“Thank you,” Wanda said demurely. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

She smiled, then looked at me.

“You’d better go help them,” I told her firmly.

Tanya hesitated, but then nodded and let herself out.

Wanda rolled her eyes at me, and mimed someone listening at the door. I shrugged. It was hardly to be expected that we would be left completely unobserved in an un-bugged room.

“You did well this morning,” I said, pointedly buttering myself some bread. “Madame was telling me how impressed she is with your abilities. She believes you will be a great credit to this establishment.”

She pulled a face, but followed my lead, taking some bread herself.

“I hope she still thinks that,” she replied in anxious tones. “I didn’t mean to lose control. Was she angry?”

“No, no, of course not,” I lied easily. “There are worse things in life than a few smashed furnishings. Your control will get better, the more you practice.”

“I suppose.” She chewed her food thoughtfully.

“Drink your juice,” I reminded her pleasantly.

She shot a disgusted glance in the direction of my bed. I could almost hear her thought, it was so forceful.

 _I am_ NOT _going to sleep in the bed you betrayed my sister in!_

I grimaced, and pointed to the armchair in front of the fire. “I’m sure your room will be cleaned up soon, but you’re welcome to wait in here until its done. I’ll build up the fire. Its chilly in here.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, drinking the juice with a scowl. She relocated to the armchair while I placed a few logs on the fire. She gesticulated ferociously, pointing towards the door, then me, then the bed, then herself, then slashing a hand across her throat.

I rolled my eyes, having no trouble interpreting this to mean _If you do anything with Tanya while I’m in the room, you are dead meat!_ I shook my head firmly, rather offended by the suggestion. What kind of pervert did she think I was?

She glowered at me. I needed no translation for that either.

I sighed. _Fine, point taken_ , I thought unhappily.

She smiled faintly, then made herself comfortable in the armchair and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was asleep.

I released a long, slow breath, regarding her peaceful face guiltily. As much as I hated to keep drugging her like this, it was a relief to have her out of my head. This situation was messed up enough, without having a witness.

Staring into the fire, I brooded silently, until there came another quiet knock, and Tanya entered once more.

“The room is done,” she said softly. She raised an eyebrow at Wanda’s sleeping form.

I shrugged. Standing up, I gently lifted her out of the chair and carried her into the next room. Other than a new mirror and a few minor differences in the furnishings, it was barely possible to tell anything had occurred.

“Good work,” I said softly, tucking Wanda into her bed.

Tanya smiled. “I didn’t really do anything.” Which was true, since I knew full well she’d been listening at my door the whole time. “But if you feel inclined to reward me,” she added lightly, her smile widening. “I won’t complain.” She inclined her head slightly towards next door.

“I’m sure you won’t,” I said quietly, wrestling with myself. Though it pained me to admit it, I was just as eager to get back to my room as she was.

Tanya gave me a knowing look and led the way. I hesitated, biting my lip, then followed. She preceded me through the portal; I closed the door behind me and, pushing aside a pang of guilt, locked it.

Abruptly she was in my arms, slamming my back against the door, kissing me fiercely.

“We’re supposed… to be training…” I murmured, responding with equal passion.

She yanked at my clothing, dragging my top over my head, nearly tearing the fabric in her impatience. “We are training,” she breathed back, kissing my breasts feverishly. “And, oh, I’m learning so much…”

I laughed. Cupping her buttocks, I lifted her and carried her to the bed, throwing her down on top of the covers. She wrapped her legs around my waist and hauled me down on top of her. Her nails raked my bare skin, and she bit my shoulder, hard. I laughed again, surprised but exhilarated by the rough play. I gripped her hair, yanked her head back, and bit her on the neck in retaliation. She groaned in mixed pain and pleasure.

That set the tone for our encounter. Natasha Romanoff, and the tenderness she shared with Melanie, was completely absent from this coupling. Natalia Romanova was fully in command, revelling in the adrenaline high rushing through my veins. It reminded me how I sometimes felt in the intensity of combat; a heightened state of awareness where a little pain somehow only enhanced the pleasure. We attacked each other in a frenzy that came just short of drawing blood. Our clothing was flung in all directions. Her beautiful skin was flushed and hot, burning as though with fever. She clutched at my hair with a gasp as I found my way inside her. I bit her neck again as I thrust hard and fast. Her nails raked my scalp as she moved rhythmically with little grunts of pleasure. I grinned in triumph as she abruptly arched her back and cried out in release. Breathing heavily, she went momentarily limp. Then she came back to life, rolling me onto my back and kissing me fiercely once more. Her hands pulled at me, pushing my feet up beside my buttocks. I opened myself to her, and moaned at the scorching touch of her tongue as she pressed her face between my legs. I seized her hair again, pushing her more firmly down on me. Her blunt nails dug into my thighs, her tongue working hard, encouraged by my gasps of ecstasy. I let out a long, low groan as my own climax hit with the force of a battering ram.

She fell sideways onto her back beside me. I stretched my legs out with a satisfied sigh. For a few minutes, we lay side by side, exhausted by the brief but intense interlude.

Tanya stirred first. She rolled onto her elbow, propping her head on her hand. “Now that’s what I call a good training session,” she purred, grinning.

I shook my head with a snort. “I doubt very much it was what Madame had in mind.”

She shrugged coyly. “She gave permission, did she not?”

“Indeed she did,” I agreed, my tone souring as I remembered the price. I tried to shake off the thought. “She’s not happy, but she’s not about to execute me either. She said if I must indulge my ‘unnatural urges’ I am to do so with you and no-one else.”

“Well then,” she responded playfully. “It’s a good thing you enjoy me so much.” Her fingers stroked the back of my neck.

I supressed a flinch, Melanie’s lover resurfacing in a rush, screaming betrayal at my current position in another woman’s arms. I hurriedly turned away from Tanya to hide my expression, fighting conflicting emotions.

She paused, my reaction filling her with sudden doubt. “You… you _do_ enjoy being with me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted softly, wincing at the unwelcome truth. “Yes I do. Far more than I should.”

I sensed her relief, then her frown at the latter. “You don’t believe her, what she said, do you?” she said slowly. She kissed my shoulder. “We are not unnatural, and what we just did was not depraved, or an abomination.”

I said nothing.

“’Talia?” she murmured.

No-one had ever abbreviated my name that way before, and yet the affectionate nickname rolled so naturally off her tongue, it pierced my heart like a knife blade.

I relented, shifting back to face her and putting up a hand to stroke back her hair. “No, we are not depraved,” I said gently. “I know that.”

She cocked her head to one side. “But?”

I averted my eyes. “Madame may have given permission, but that doesn’t mean I won’t pay for it. _She_ still thinks it’s an abomination. I know full well she’s only allowing it because she gets something out of it.”

Tanya blinked. “Like what?” she said innocently.

I rolled my eyes in disgust. “Oh come on, Tanya. I’m not an idiot. She’s got you recording my every breath with that marvellous memory of yours! She insults my intelligence if she thinks I don’t know you’re in her sitting room every morning, reciting every word.”

She went very still. “You know about that.”

“Of course I know about that,” I said with a snort. I gripped her arms, giving her a little shake. “Just like I know that it was your idea.”

She bit her lip defiantly. “Well I’m not going to apologise. It was the only way. Like you said, she would never allow this unless she got something out of it…”

I thought quickly. Time for a little performance of my own, I decided. “Why does she want me watched so badly?” I demanded. “What the hell have I done that she would allow _this_ , just to keep me under observation? Is this a test? Because if it is, I’m not failing it.” I shoved Tanya away and rolled out of bed.

“What? No! Talia!” Tanya sat up, shocked.

I threw her shirt at her angrily. “Is that what she wants to know? How far I would go to be able to indulge my unnatural urges? Whether I would betray her to do so? Does she really think so little of me?”

“No, of course not.” Tanya ignored the shirt and rose gracefully, glorious in her nakedness. “You’re not betraying anyone, what are you talking about? I thought you wanted this? Wanted me?”

“No, _you_ wanted this,” I snarled, grasping her arms and giving her another shake. “I was managing this little… defect… of mine perfectly fine, Madame would never have known, but you had to go and tell her didn’t you? You had to tell her, her precious protégé was an abomination, just so you could get what _you_ want!” I pushed her away. “Madame should be questioning your loyalty, not mine.”

“You are not an abomination!” Tanya’s green eyes flashed. “And it’s not a defect, it’s who you are. She would have found out eventually. You know she keeps track of you. I’m surprised you managed to hide it from her so long.”

“Is that why she’s got you spying on me?” I demanded. “I managed to hide something from her, so she’s wondering what else I might be hiding?”

Tanya shrugged. “Probably. That’s just the way she thinks, it doesn’t mean it’s true.” She stroked my hair back behind my ear, her naked body hot against my skin, and kissed my neck. “You need to relax. This isn’t a test, Talia. Madame made an exception for me, because I’m special. She’s doing the same for you.”

I shivered, becoming aroused once again as she nibbled the particularly sensitive spot behind my ear. It made it hard to focus, but something about what she had just said troubled me deeply.

“Special,” I whispered. “She makes exceptions for me because I’m special.” I pulled away and sank down on the edge of the bed. “That’s what I don’t understand. What is _she_ hiding from _me_? She said I’m unique, that I’m as special as you, or Wanda… How can that be?” My little act slipped into genuine frustration. “What am I missing? Why am I special?”

Tanya chuckled. “I could think of a few answers to that,” she said coyly, crawling onto the bed behind me and pressing herself up against the curve of my back, “but I doubt any of them would be Madame’s reasons.” She kissed a line along my shoulder and nuzzled behind my ear again. I felt her lips curve in a smile as an involuntary tremor rippled through me. 

“You really like that, don’t you?” she murmured, a little gloatingly. “Have I found your sweet spot?” She teased harder, her hands cupping my breasts, and a moan escaped me. “Why don’t you quit worrying about why you’re permitted special privileges, and just enjoy them…”

Tantalised beyond restraint, I gave in, turning in the circle of her arms and kissing her fiercely, feeling Natalia pushing to the forefront again. “Maybe you’re right,” I murmured. I frowned. “But permission or no permission, Madame will not be amused if we spend all day in bed. I’m supposed to be finishing your training.”

She grinned. “Who says we can’t train in bed? I’m good at multi-tasking.”

“Are you now?” I smiled, feeling suddenly reckless. Kissing her roughly, I felt behind me with one hand amongst my possessions on the bedside table. Finding what I wanted, in one smooth, quick movement I had her handcuffed to the bed post.

“Hey!” she exclaimed indignantly as I moved away.

I shrugged, smiling, and settled myself out of reach. “Get out of that, my dear apprentice, and we’ll continue this discussion,” I told her sweetly.

She growled in frustration, tugging at her restraint. “I guess I asked for that,” she muttered.

I chuckled. “Someday, you might find yourself in a situation where you’re captive with no resources, nothing but what’s around you. You have to get creative, or you’ll die.” I stretched luxuriously. “Now I’m obviously not going to kill you, but I’m sure I can provide sufficient motivation, nonetheless.” I stroked myself provocatively.

Tanya moaned, her eyes following my movements with intense hunger. Her free hand went to her hair, and she swore under her breath.

I chuckled again. No doubt she would usually have a hair grip or something she could use to pick the lock, but at some point during our earlier romp she had lost it. I watched with interest as she glanced around, assessing her surroundings. Her eyes narrowed with decision. She rolled off the bed, stretching as far she could, and managed to hook a spindly wooden chair with her foot, hauling it towards her. I raised an eyebrow as she located a nail that protruded slightly and, contorting herself in an impossible-looking position, used the edge of the handcuff to prise it out. Expertly picking the lock, in seconds she was free.

“Impressive,” I congratulated her as she threw herself back into my arms, grinning.

“Why thank you,” she purred. I hid my smile in her breasts. “I’m curious,” she murmured, her eyes closed in bliss under my attentions. “What would you have done?”

“Same as you,” I murmured, tracing patterns with my lips. “But I’d have gone for the lamp. Smashed the lightbulb, used the metal filament as a pick…”

She smiled. “I didn’t think of that. I’ll remember next time.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you will.”

She laughed softly. “So what’s next, mentor?” She shivered in delight as my mouth found a sensitive spot.

I sat up, grinning at her pout of disappointment. “Next, I’ll make you a deal.” I removed the handcuffs from the bed post and held them up, dangling from one finger. “If you can get these on me, I’ll let you make a request. Anything you like, and I’ll grant it. _If_ you can get them on me.”

Her brows rose mischievously. “Oh really?” She made a snatch, and I easily held the cuffs out of reach.

“How am I supposed to get them on you if you don’t give me them?” she demanded.

I chuckled. “Well that’s part of the challenge.”

She grinned. “Challenge accepted.” She lunged, and I rolled to my right. Quickly reversing myself, I rolled back over her and pinned her hands down. “You’ll have to do better than that,” I scolded.

“Oh I will,” she promised. She yanked her hands out from under mine and lashed in both directions with her arms. I was unprepared for her strength. My own arms gave way, collapsing me on top of her with a surprised grunt, and she rolled me over in her turn. I grabbed her hands before she could pin me, got my knees under her chest and shoved her away. She went flying backwards and fell off the end of the bed with a curse.

I sat up and studied her intently as she gathered her legs under her. “You’re strong,” I remarked, intrigued and a little shocked. I might not be in the same league as Steve or Bruce, but I was still far stronger than nature intended, thanks to Goravitch and his meddling. Few men, and no women, had ever been a match for me before.

I examined her warily. There was something almost feral in the way she held herself. Like a panther poised to spring, or a coiled cobra waiting to strike. She was so graceful, so dangerously beautiful... I realised I was staring, fascinated, and gave myself a little shake.

“Come on then,” I said, jingling the handcuffs tauntingly. “What are you waiting for?”

She smiled, and pounced. She was faster than I would have thought, as well as stronger, but she lacked my experience. Instead of recoiling back or to the side as she anticipated, I ducked beneath her and dived forward over the end of the bed, tucked my head and rolled neatly to my feet, leaving her to land in a surprised heap on the covers. I turned and smirked at her disgruntled expression.

“Lesson one,” I told her. “Never bank on your target being where you expect them to be.”

She frowned, studying me thoughtfully. I smiled. “Lesson two; brute force is rarely the most efficient way to get what you want. Being strong is good; being clever is better.”

She pursed her lips, and abruptly relaxed. “Of course,” she murmured, chagrined. “I don’t need to take the cuffs from you by force. I need to make you give them to me.”

I raised an eyebrow, smiling. “So how are you going to do that?”

She was silent a long moment, then she clenched her jaw resolutely. “Talia, give me the cuffs, or I’ll tell Madame something you don’t want her to know.”

I sighed. I walked into that one, I thought ruefully. “Like what?” I asked, feigning unconcern. “What is it you think I don’t want Madame to know?”

Tanya stared me down relentlessly. “She would be angry if she knew how you really feel about me.”

I blinked, taken aback. Something told me this was no longer a game. My expression hardened. “What are you talking about?” I asked, making my voice soft and dangerous. I moved back towards her, putting my face close to hers. “What exactly do you think I feel for you?”

“You care about me,” Tanya replied, her voice steady, though I could feel her tremble slightly under my suddenly menacing regard. “Madame thinks you’re just scratching an itch, but I know it’s more than that. I’m here for you, you don’t have to please me, but you do. You want me to feel something. You don’t just want sex, you enjoy spending time with me. You like me. You care about me.”

I glared at her, furious that she could make such allegations, and inwardly terrified she might be right. “You really think blackmail is going to work on me?” I snarled.

Tanya shrugged. “No, not really.” She grinned suddenly. “But a distraction, on the other hand...”

My mouth fell open as she snapped the stolen handcuffs on my wrist.

“Why you little…!”

She laughed gleefully and pushed me down onto the bed, planting herself triumphantly astride my hips. I shook my head in grudging appreciation. “Very impressive,” I admitted. “I can count on one hand how many people have bested me before.”

She leaned down, and nibbled my lip playfully. “I believe you owe me a favour.”

“I guess I do,” I murmured, returning her kiss. Taking advantage of her preoccupation, I calmly felt behind my head for the nail she had left beside the pillow, and quickly freed myself from the cuffs. She started, astonished, as I twisted and pushed her backwards, and she found herself pinned once more. “How did you…?”

I chuckled. “Distraction works both ways.” I tapped her lightly on the nose in mock admonishment. “Lesson three: never get so wrapped up in your success that you leave yourself open to a counter-attack.”

She growled, annoyed with herself. “You still owe me.”

“I do,” I agreed. I leaned on my elbow and traced her curves lightly with my other hand. “So what do you want me to do for you?”

She was silent for so long that I frowned, eyeing her in puzzlement. “I didn’t think it was a trick question.”

She pursed her lips. “I want,” she said finally, “to leave this place.”

I sat up in consternation. “What? _Now_?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Talia, not right now. I just want to be allowed to graduate. I want you to convince Madame to pass me.”

I shook my head in genuine bafflement. “What are you talking about? You know that’s not how it works. You don’t need to worry about graduating, you’ll sail through the tests no problem. Look what you just did, you’re beyond competent, you’re remarkable! You’re seriously telling me there’s a test you can’t pass?”

“You know there is,” she answered in a low voice, averting her eyes.

I stared at her, then groaned as comprehension dawned. “The Night Master. You’ve already taken his test haven’t you?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I failed.”

I sighed, and gathered her into my arms. “Is it that bad?” I asked gently, my heart aching with pity.

She shuddered. “I hate it. The Night Master was bad enough, but the man they sent me to for the test… I couldn’t do it Talia, I couldn’t let him inside me. I fought him off, and when he tried to force me…” That feral light suddenly reappeared in her eyes, and she bared her teeth. “I made sure he couldn’t. Not then or any other time.”

I groaned. “You _castrated_ the poor bugger?” I exclaimed, dismayed. As much as I sympathised with her plight, the man surely hadn’t deserved that. After all he too was simply following orders.

She shrugged sullenly. “He shouldn’t have tried to force me.”

“What happened then?” I asked apprehensively. It wasn’t usual for anyone to fail and survive the experience.

She looked away. “I was punished.” She didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t want to know. “Then I was told that I would have one last chance to prove that I could perform adequately. Madame said, as much as she would regret the waste of my talents, if I couldn’t follow orders, I would be a liability in the outside world, not an asset. She said she would give me some time to prepare before I try again, but neither will she wait indefinitely.” A note of desperation seeped into her voice. “My time is almost up, and nothing I do or say will convince her to reconsider. Maybe you can.”

I stared. “You can’t be serious!”

“Please, Talia!” she begged. “I can do everything else, _anything_ else, just not that…”

I was silent.

“You said any request I made you would grant!” she said angrily, seeing my hesitation.

I grimaced. “You know full well that wasn’t what I meant! This idea of yours is impossible, Tanya. I’m sorry, but Madame is immovable as a mountain. Nothing I can say will change her mind, not about something like this, and I’m not stupid enough to try! You disobeyed a direct order, permanently damaged another operative... If it weren’t for that miraculous memory of yours, you’d have been executed, not punished! You may be special, but you’ve pushed the privilege as far as it will go. Unless you prove you’re willing to obey _any_ order, you’ll never be allowed to leave.” I stroked her face, troubled. “Would you really rather die?”

She shivered. “I’ll die either way,” she whispered bitterly. “Even if I tell them I’ll try again… I can’t stop myself from fighting it.” She gulped. “I can’t explain, I can’t help it, I can’t think straight when a man is that close… and if I fail again, they’ll kill me this time. But if I don’t try, they’ll kill me anyway…” She was silent for a while, and I couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally she looked up at me. “How do you do it?” she asked softly. Her eyes searched mine earnestly. “How do you let a man… do that to you?”

I sighed. “I don’t find it as repulsive as you do. I enjoy how it feels.” I grimaced. “Most of the time.”

She frowned. “But you’re like me. How can you enjoy that?”

I shrugged. “You don’t have to be entirely one way or the other. I admit, I prefer a woman’s touch now, but I didn’t know that until recently. I enjoyed men before. I could still enjoy a man, if I had to.” I left out the part where I fervently hoped it would never be necessary. Betraying Melanie with another woman was bad enough. I didn’t even want to think about having to explain that I’d been with a man.

She looked at me as though I had suddenly sprouted horns. “You found them attractive?” she said, incredulous.

“Some of them.”

“But not all of them,” she observed. “So what do you do when you’re ordered to bed someone hideous?”

I laughed ruefully. “Most of the time my orders weren’t that specific. I went for the most appealing choice I could in the circumstances. I suppose there have been one or two that I found truly repellent, but,” I shrugged, uncomfortable with this conversation. “Orders are orders. I just closed my eyes and remembered one of the better ones.”

Tanya sighed. “And I can’t do that,” she said morosely. “There _are_ no better ones.”

“Hmmmm,” I said thoughtfully.

Madame knew all about this, of course, I realised with a bitter taste in my mouth. It occurred to me there were wheels within wheels to her thinking in apprenticing Tanya to me. She wasn’t just ensuring she had me under observation, or curtailing my supposed illicit activities. Tanya was just as valuable to her as I was, and she was currently at an impasse. She had no wish to execute her, but neither could she allow her to get away with such blatant defiance. They could be no exceptions in this case. Tanya must prove she would obey orders, no matter how personally distasteful, or she would die.

Gritting my teeth, I heard again Madame’s words in my head.

_Ensure she is prepared for what she will face._

Clearly, she had decided that I was the ideal candidate to solve this knotty problem, and she would not be happy if she was disappointed.

I smothered a groan. How on earth was I supposed to prepare her for something like this? If the Night Master, with all his skill, had not been able to reconcile her to the idea, how could I be expected to? All right, she wasn’t physically repulsed by me, but I still had no way to give her the positive experience she lacked.

I frowned, a thought occurring to me. No way at the moment… But possibly something could be done about that. There were, after all, ways and means for two women to achieve a similar end… but how would I get hold of such a thing? I could hardly ask Madame, and I couldn’t leave the Red Room.

There was one person here, however, who might be disposed to help.

“Does the Night Master still visit you?” I asked Tanya carefully.

She snorted. “All the time. He says he wants to help me, but I know better. He wants what all men want, to shove himself inside me. That’s all any of them want, when they look at me. I can see it in their eyes.”

I winced. Considering my own first reaction, I couldn’t really contradict her. She was simply too attractive. Anyone with functioning eyeballs would want her.

“Next time he turns up, tell him I’d like a word,” I requested quietly.

She looked confused, then wary. “Why?”

“There might be a way I can help. Don’t get your hopes up,” I warned her hastily. “I said might. I don’t know yet. I’ll know more after I talk to the Night Master.”

She nodded slowly. “All right.”

I smiled and kissed her. “That a girl. Now, how about we take our minds off this unpleasant business for a while?” I tickled my fingers up the inside of her thigh. “I believe I still owe you a favour…”


	12. 12.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex education for spies.

A presence beside my bed intruded on my senses, and I reacted before I was even entirely awake.

Opening my eyes, I found my knife at the throat of a man dressed in black.

The man smiled. “Still can’t sneak up on you, can I, Natalia?” His tone conveyed approval.

“There aren’t many that can,” I returned coolly. I removed the knife and let go of the man’s shirt. “Glad to see you’re still alive and kicking, Night Master.”

“Likewise,” he replied. He eyed me speculatively, and I flushed, but met his gaze steadily. Unlike Tanya, I had _not_ objected to his nocturnal visits. Quite the opposite; the pleasures I had discovered under his expert tutelage constituted the only pleasant memories I had of this place. His very presence beside my bed still raised a heat in my body, but I had no intention of reliving the past. I had deliberately procured an old shirt to sleep in, not wanting any exposed flesh to give him ideas.

He looked faintly amused at my precaution. “Tanya said you wished to speak to me.”

“I do.” I tucked my knife back under my pillow. “Madame made her my apprentice, told me to complete her training.” I fixed him with a piercing stare. “But as far as I can see, there is only one area in which she is deficient.”

He sighed, seeming genuinely regretful. “Indeed. And yet she would excel at that too, if she would only let herself. I have tried to show her the experience doesn’t have to be entirely distasteful, that she can still derive some pleasure from it, but she is exceptionally stubborn. She harms only herself by her attitude, but she refuses to listen.”

“Perhaps,” I said cautiously. “If she were to have a… pleasant experience… it would help her overcome this obstacle?”

He shrugged. “My thoughts exactly, but she will not let me show her, and to force her would be counter-productive.”

 _Not to mention painful, for you_ , I added silently. I considered my words carefully. “Perhaps you are not the right one to give her that experience, in this instance.”

He looked offended, as though I were suggesting there was another man out there who might surpass his skill. “If not me, then who?”

I raised my eyebrows significantly.

He blinked, puzzled. Then realisation dawned and he recoiled sharply. “You cannot be serious! Madame would never allow such an unnatural congress –“

“She will,” I interrupted firmly. I smiled. “She has already given permission. She gave Tanya to me.”

He whistled softly. “My, my, Natalia, you are a dark horse.” He seemed fascinated rather than repulsed. Frowning as he thought over my request, he tapped his fingers restlessly on his knee as though playing an imaginary piano. “What you are suggesting… is unprecedented.”

“Of course its unprecedented,” I retorted coldly. “But it isn’t up to you to decide what is and is not permitted. Madame has already made that decision. What matters now is that I am not inclined to suffer the indignity of having _my_ apprentice fail to graduate. She needs to overcome this unfortunate mental block of hers. I can see to it that she does, I just need a little… assistance.” I leaned forward. “I’m sure a master of your craft such as yourself will have no trouble finding what I need.”

He smiled sardonically. “Indeed.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It would be a shame for Tanya not to graduate. She is talented. Such a waste.”

“Madame thinks so too,” I said softly. “I’m sure she would be most appreciative of anyone who helped preserve such a valuable asset… Perhaps grateful enough to overlook your own failure.”

He glanced at me sharply, paling. “Hmmmm.” He stood up abruptly. “Very well, Natalia. I will see what I can do.”

“I appreciate it.” I inclined my head politely. “As I will appreciate your discretion. Madame disapproves of… gossip.”

His lip curled, but he gave me a curt nod. “Your secret is safe with me. I will let you get back to your rest. Goodnight, Natalia.”

“Goodnight, Night Master.”

He left, his black clothing making it seem as though the night simply swallowed him up. I slowly laid back down, and stared at the ceiling. I tried to think of Melanie, but she kept turning into Tanya. But when I thought about Tanya, she in turn became Melanie. I groaned and flung an arm over my eyes.

“This is so messed up,” I whispered miserably.

****

The following morning, I awoke to a knock at my door. There was no response to my call to enter, so I hauled myself out of bed to investigate. Opening the door, I found the corridor empty, and a nondescript cardboard box sitting on the floor.

“That was fast,” I muttered to myself, eyeing it a little apprehensively. “From your private collection, perchance, Night Master?”

The box sat there, all innocent looking, and made no answer.

I picked it up, shut the door again and carried it gingerly to my table. Bracing myself, I lifted the lid. My eyes widened. “Holy moly,” I murmured, hurriedly slamming the lid back down, feeling the blood rushing to my face. “Pull yourself together,” I scolded myself. Breathing deeply, I cracked the lid back open and forced myself to study the item I had requested, my blush deepening as I noted some unexpected features. I hadn’t realised that they could be designed to accommodate both partners, not just one.

After a minute of staring, I noticed a note tucked down one side. I plucked it out and unfolded it.

_I trust this will simulate the real experience as closely as possible._

_Enjoy._

I raised my eyes helplessly to the ceiling. “How thoughtful.”

I sat down at the table and stared at the box, wrestling with myself. I wanted to help Tanya, this was the only way I could help her, but there was no escaping the reality that this deepened my betrayal of my beloved to a whole new level. I bit my lip miserably. Melanie and I had always been happy simply with each other. I had been aware, of course, of the concept of accessories, but we hadn’t gotten around to experimenting. Now, I suddenly wished we had. Up until now, I had shared nothing with Tanya that I hadn’t already done with Melanie. This would change that. I groaned dismally and rested my forehead on the table, torn. It wasn’t that I disliked the idea of being… involved… in the act. Far from it. But the prospect of having that first experience with Tanya, not Melanie, made me feel sick with guilt. I had expected something a good deal less elaborate. More detached.

Still, I thought ruefully. I could see where the Night Master was coming from. If the whole point of this was to provide an accurate simulation… well, this would serve admirably.

Sighing, I stood up, picked up the box and placed it carefully on the bedside table, then headed for the bathroom. I needed a shower, and to fill my head with as much trivial nonsense as possible, before I dared go near Wanda, or I suspected there would be another explosion.

****

It was a good thing I was accustomed to disciplining my mind. I managed to keep my thoughts away from what awaited in my room throughout the morning’s activities. Today, they wanted to learn the limits of what Wanda could lift. Under Vladimir’s avid gaze, and Madame B’s cool regard, she lifted all the chairs in the room into the air. Still holding them suspended, she lifted the piano stool, then the piano.

Circumspectly gauging the glint in Vladimir’s eyes, I judged that enough to satisfy them.

Obedient to my silent instruction, Wanda grimaced, and the piano wobbled as it joined the rest of the furniture in the air. “I… I don’t think I can hold it,” she wailed.

“That’s all right, child, that’s more than enough,” Vladimir said smoothly. “You can put them down.”

 _For God’s sake, don’t drop them_ , I told her silently. _It annoys Madame when you break things, and I need her in a good mood!_

Wanda didn’t blink an eyelid, but the furniture floated serenely to the floor with barely a bump.

“Excellent,” applauded Vladimir. “Now let’s try something bigger. Shall we go outside? Madame, you can provide a warm coat for our guests, I’m sure?”

“Of course,” she answered coldly, looking faintly irritated at his presumption. She snapped her fingers and made a curt gesture. Tanya entered with an armful of coats, and I took one without looking at her, concentrating very hard on thoughts of what Vladimir was planning to do outside.

Once warmly attired, we stepped through the French doors into the frigid February air. Fresh snow crunched underfoot. Wanda and I followed Vladimir and Madame to the garage. An old car, a transit van and a snowplough were parked outside.

“Now, Wanda,” Vladimir opened. He gestured at the vehicles. “Do you think you can lift any of these?”

Wanda looked nervous. I knew perfectly well that she could lift all three without raising a sweat, not to mention throw them right over the roof of the mansion, but I didn’t see any need for Vladimir and Madame B to know that.

 _Lift the car and the van_ , I suggested. _Struggle with the snowplough._

She did as I instructed. Vladimir looked on greedily, and even Madame B’s lips twitched in approval, as she lifted first the car, then the van, as high as the roof of the garage, then turned to the snowplough, her brow furrowing as though in intense concentration. Red smoke swirled from her fingers and curled around the base of the plough. It rose, wobbling, a foot or so into the air. Wanda clenched her teeth as though pained, and it rose another foot. Her outstretched hand began to shake.

“All right, child,” Madame said hastily, seeing the plough teeter. “That’s enough, put them down.”

The vehicles descended and settled back on the ground with a few creaks of strained metal.

“Well done,” Vladimir congratulated her. “Your control is getting better by the day.”

We spent a little more time outside, strolling around the circumference of the building. Wanda lifted several more large objects, and Vladimir and Madame B conferred briefly before directing us back inside again, much to my relief. I had forgotten how cold it got in this part of the world.

Eventually, we were dismissed and I escorted Wanda back to her room, where Tanya waited as usual with the midday meal.

Wanda was very quiet. When I asked her solicitously if she was all right, she merely replied that using her powers so much was tiring. I knew she was sick to death of this tedious daily routine, but there wasn’t much I could do to offer relief. Nor could I offer any consolation that her ordeal would soon be over, because Madame was still watching me like a hawk, so I had had no opportunity to gain access to the bunker. It was all extremely frustrating.

Tanya was also quiet, as she had been ever since I had been forced to take away all hope of avoiding the Night Master’s test a few days before. I had shelved the topic for the time being, determined to say nothing to raise false hopes until I had spoken to the Night Master, and had kept our training sessions strictly knowledge based. She answered every question I asked her without hesitation, and with a wealth of detail that caused me to marvel once again at the sheer volume of information she held in her head, but without ever once changing inflection. She came out of her shell in my arms, but there was a hard, almost frantic edge to her lovemaking, and she no longer made any attempt at conversation, slipping right back into her silent, closed-off state as soon as we were done.

Today, she said nothing when I told her to come to my room once she was done clearing away the remains of our meal, merely nodding and carrying away the tray without a word.

Sighing, I let myself back into my own room and, shivering, built up the fire. I couldn’t help but keep glancing at the box waiting on the bedside table, nervously debating with myself how to approach this. I was by no means certain that Tanya would welcome my solution. It disturbed me how much her fate had come to mean to me; I was wasting a great deal of energy worrying about something that had no strategic relevance to my mission. I knew Wanda was also concerned at how much time I was spending with her; my excuse was of course that I needed to do as Madame had ordered, maintain my cover, while I waited for an opportune moment to approach the bunker, but I doubted I was fooling her any more than I was fooling myself. I knew that, even if I completed my mission now, I could not just leave Tanya to die. I was too involved, cared too much. I had to give her a chance at survival, even if doing so contributed to the steady erosion of the lines I was desperately trying to draw around our relationship.

After a while, I heard Tanya’s quiet footsteps in the hallway, followed by her usual soft tap at the door.

“Enter,” I called.

Tanya entered and closed the door behind her.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to me. “Come here, Tanya.”

Her face carefully expressionless, she moved to my side and gingerly sat beside me.

I sighed. “I talked to the Night Master.”

Her lips tightened at that, but she remained silent.

“I had a suggestion to make, a possible way to help you overcome your difficulties. He agreed to help. He brought me this.”

Keeping a tight rein on my composure, not wanting her to know how nervous I felt about this, I picked up the box and passed it to her.

A small line appeared between her brows as she looked down at it. “What is it?” she asked doubtfully.

I feigned nonchalance. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

She hesitated, then lifted the lid. Her eyes became wide as saucers. Her fingers clenched on the box, as though she barely restrained the impulse to hurl it away from her. She looked up at me in consternation.

I raised my hands. “It’s a suggestion. That’s all. I thought perhaps it wouldn’t be such an ordeal with me.”

She gulped. “It’s… it’s…”

“It’s a dildo,” I said matter-of-factly. I shrugged. “Not quite the same as the real thing, but near enough.”

Tentatively, she prodded it, then lifted it out of the box, turning it over in her hands in unwilling fascination.

I was fairly mesmerised by it myself. It bore only a superficial resemblance to the organ it was mimicking, being far easier on the eye in my opinion; a smooth, lustrous piece of firm, warm, jet black silicone. Its design was ingenious, for while one end was the expected phallic shaft, the other end curved around over ninety degrees in a configuration that had confused me until I realised it’s intended function.

Tanya seemed frozen, caught between fascination and panic, but at least this new development seemed to have jolted her out of her withdrawal.

I gently stroked a stray wisp of hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

“With this, I could help you. I can show you it doesn’t have to be painful, or terrifying. It can be pleasurable, even for people like us, that’s why these things exist. I can help you prepare for the test, show you how to manage, make it easier. But I’m not going to force you, Tanya. It’s your choice. It’s your life. You _can_ pass that test, you can get out of here. If you let me help you.”

She swallowed hard. “These things are designed for… people like us?”

I smiled. “Well, a man doesn’t exactly need one. Besides, look at it. Where do you think the other end goes?”

“So… female couples use these a lot? They… they enjoy it?”

“I doubt there would be much of a market for them if they didn’t,” I said drily.

“Have you ever used one? Is this yours?”

“No,” I admitted. “I’ve never tried it before. The Night Master procured it for me. Don’t ask me where from, I’ve no idea. It was here when I woke up this morning.”

She bit her lip, and stared at the dildo for a long minute. I didn’t rush her, remaining silent while she fought conflicting fears. Finally, she slowly nodded.

“All right,” she whispered. “I’ll try.”

I smiled. Gently taking the dildo from her, I set it aside for the moment, and pulled her into my arms, pressing my lips to hers. For a moment she was still, then she began to respond, sliding around to sit astride my lap and running her fingers through my hair.

Under the circumstances, I considered it wise to refrain from the kind of rough and tumble we usually indulged in. My lips stayed tantalisingly soft as I kissed my way down her neck, teasing ever so gently with my teeth. She shivered, a little disconcerted by such tenderness, unsure how to respond. Still kissing her neck, I unbuttoned her shirt and slid the fabric from her shoulders. She made a soft sound as I nibbled my way along her shoulder.

Unhooking her bra, I quickly removed it and lowered her gently to the bed, my light kisses making their way back along her collar bone and across to her other shoulder, down her chest, around the curves of her breasts. I flicked my tongue over her nipple, smiling as it turned hard and hot. She moaned and tugged at my clothing. I obligingly sat up to remove my top and bra, tossing them aside. A little of her usual eagerness leaking through, Tanya sat up too, burying her face in my naked breasts, cupping them in her hands. A little awkwardly, trying to match the gentle pace I had set, she traced her lips over my skin. I arched my back with a sigh of pleasure as her warm mouth teased my nipples. Caressing my hands down her back, I slid them beneath the waistband of her trousers, squeezing her pert buttocks.

She was understandably shy of removing her trousers for once, but I was firm. I pulled mine off as well, tossing both garments to the floor, and twined my body comfortingly around hers.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “We’ll get to that part, but not yet. Relax.”

My hand found its way between her legs, lightly stroking. I felt her relax against me, and I cradled her against my chest while my fingers stroked her into her happy place. Gradually increasing the pressure, I watched her face, taking my cues from her expression as much as her soft cries.

“Oh Talia,” she moaned as her moment neared. “Oh Talia…Talia… Oh!” Her back arched, her body shuddered with ecstasy. She fell limp with a contented sigh, and I smiled at her blissful expression, kissing her tenderly. She opened her eyes and looked at me wonderingly.

“Why would anyone want a dildo when they can just do that?” she breathed.

I laughed. “Because it feels just as good, in a different way.”

She frowned sceptically. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

I shook my head. “No. I’m saying it because it’s true. It will feel good, I promise, if you’re relaxed, and you want it. Different. But good.” I glanced at the object on the bedside table, at the ingenious design. “For both of us.”

She followed my gaze and bit her lip. “I want… you to feel good.”

I smiled, reached for the dildo and handed it to her.

She eyed it doubtfully.

“You don’t have to wear it,” I told her gently. “Just hold it.” I kissed her, then laid back against the pillows, making myself comfortable.

Her eyes filled with hunger as I opened myself to her, and she bent to taste me, her hot tongue making me gasp with pleasure. She hesitated, gripping the dildo, and I smiled and lifted my hips invitingly. Tentatively, she rubbed it over me, and I closed my eyes with a dreamy sigh that turned into a groan of delight as she plunged the shaft deep inside me. The almost-forgotten feeling of fullness was intoxicating. Frowning in concentration, she worked the dildo in and out with her hand.

“Oh god,” I breathed, arching my back. “Oh Tanya that feels wonderful…”

She smiled. Still pumping, she bent her head and applied her tongue once more, and I clutched the pillow as the sensations built rapidly in intensity.

Tanya kissed my breasts lovingly as I fell limp, my climax wringing every bit of tension from my body. She tossed the dildo aside and came into my arms, wrapping her body around mine. I held her close and kissed her hair, idly stroking her back.

“You really _did_ enjoy that,” she remarked wonderingly.

“Mmmmm,” I agreed dreamily. “I told you it feels good.”

She was quiet for a while. I didn’t prompt her to talk, but simply held her while she worked through it in her own mind.

“And it doesn’t hurt?” she asked finally.

I shook my head. “Not if you want it.”

She chewed her lip. “And if I want it, with you, I’ll want it with a man?”

I sighed. “Not exactly, but it will help, yes. It will give you a memory to focus on at least. You need to trick your body into becoming aroused, convince yourself that you want them inside you, even though they might be utterly repellent. The more aroused you are, the easier it is. There are other things that can help too.”

She cocked her head, listening intently. “Such as?”

“Lubrication, for starters,” I said matter-of-factly. “If you’re aroused, you don’t usually need it, but if you’re not, it dries you up, makes everything a lot more uncomfortable, even painful. If you have the opportunity, find a moment to apply plenty of lubricant right before; men won’t know the difference, but it will make things a lot easier for you. Then there’s logistics. If you have to bed someone you really don’t want, you need to control the situation so you have to look at them as little as possible. Turn the lights off, or as low as you can. Keep your back to them as much as feasible, get down to business as quickly as possible, which with men isn’t usually difficult. Choose a position that makes it easier for you, and doesn’t involve being face-to-face. Doggie style usually works quite well.”

“Doggie style?” Tanya asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

I rolled my eyes. “The Night Master never covered positions with you?”

She flushed. “Yes but… I wouldn’t let him demonstrate.”

I shook my head and sat up. “Easily remedied.” I laid myself on top of her and kissed her. “So bog standard face-to-face is known as the missionary position.”

“Mmmmm,” she murmured, kissing me back. “I like this one. With you anyway.” She pulled a face. “Not so much with a man.”

“Avoid it like the plague,” I agreed. I sat back on my knees and rolled her over onto her front, then swatted her lightly on the bottom, encouraging her up onto all fours and nestling in behind her. “This is doggie style, for obvious reasons. I’d recommend this one. It might sound a bit dodgy, but it’s actually one of the more comfortable positions. Easier entry, and feels good too. Hits all the nice spots inside. Also has the advantage that you don’t have to look at your partner, so you can focus on your good memories.”

“Huh,” Tanya said thoughtfully.

I smiled slightly. My matter-of-fact dealing with the topic was easing her anxiety, coaxing her back into the mindset that this was just another lesson.

“Then there’s cowgirl,” I continued. I laid back and pulled her gently into place, sitting astride my hips. “Gives you more control, so again, a good option, but some men don’t like being the passive partner.”

Tanya snorted under her breath, but nodded. She frowned and flexed a little, trying out the movement.

I nodded approvingly. “That’s the idea. It works facing the other way too, if need be.”

She raised an eyebrow, then reversed herself, looking back over her shoulder at me.

I smiled and sat up, pressing myself against her back and kissing her shoulder. “Very good.”

She leaned back against me and smiled as my lips travelled up her neck. “Any others?”

“Those are the main ones. Most of the others are just variations on the theme. Stood up, sat down, stuff like that. Although, now that I think about it, there is one more you should be prepared for.” I slid around her, lowering her gently to the bed, and demonstrated. “It’s generally known as sixty-nine. Personally I think it’s a lot more effort than its worth, but a lot of men seem to be obsessed with it. Half the time the only way you’ll experience someone give _you_ a little attention is if you suck on their dick at the same time.”

I glanced back at her, and she grimaced at me. “I’d rather do that than… the other thing,” she said.

I shrugged, surprised. “That’s good. A lot of women would say the opposite. But if you’re willing to do that, if you do a good enough job, you’ll often get away with not having to go any further. Many men struggle to get another erection for a while after ejaculating.”

She brightened. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

I sighed. “I’m afraid it won’t work for the test, though. You’re expected to showcase _all_ your skills. If you render your subject… incapable… they’ll send in another.”

Her face fell again.

Silently raging against an institution that insisted on putting her through such a trial, I took advantage of my current position to make her feel a little better. She moaned, and tried to follow my example, craning up to meet me. She managed to suckle me for a moment before falling back with a laugh. “You’re right, this is not comfortable!”

“Try and stay on top,” I advised, giving up myself and rolling off her. “Like I said, I try and avoid that one, more trouble than its worth, but if they insist, try and stay on top. Let _them_ get a crick in their neck.”

She laughed softly.

Pleased she had relaxed enough to feel amusement, I laid back down next to her and kissed her. “Ready to practice?” I asked gently, caressing her beautiful skin.

She tensed, a flash of panic passing briefly over her face before she managed to control herself. I didn’t rush her, continuing to stroke her lightly, tracing my fingers over every inch of her. She made a soft sound and relaxed a little as I bent my head and continued my exploration with my lips. Gradually, her tension lessened. I kissed and caressed her, careful to show no sign of impatience. If I had to lie here all night, simply stroking her, I would, and she felt it.

“I’m ready,” she whispered finally.

I smiled and carried on kissing her neck. “Remember how it feels when my fingers are inside you?” I murmured between kisses.

She shivered, closing her eyes with a quiet moan. “Yes.”

“It’s going to feel even better than that…”

She moaned again, her hips flexing involuntarily.

Pleased with her progress, I kissed her lips, then sat up and felt around for the dildo. She watched me, mixed feelings flitting across her face as I eased the curved end of the device inside myself. I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment to savour the feeling of the dildo inside me. It really was very well designed. The bulbous shape fit snugly, securing the quivering shaft in a suitably erect position, and at the same time pressed against all the right places. Not only that, but the way it flared up and around gave my outsides something to rub against too. I flexed my hips experimentally and loosed a soft groan of pleasure. _Oh my god_ , I thought deliriously. _I must invest in one of these when I get home…_

Opening my eyes again, I found Tanya eying me with equal amounts amusement and trepidation.

I grinned and batted my eyelashes, striking a pose. “How do I look?” I asked coyly.

She snorted. “Ridiculous.” But her lips twitched.

I laughed and pulled her into my arms. Wearing the dildo made me feel strangely powerful, and more than a little reckless. I controlled myself with an effort, not wanting to undo the good progress we had made so far. Tanya had tensed up again, but not as much as before. I went back to kissing her and caressing her, intent on stroking the passion back into her body. I pondered logistics while working my way down her stomach. I wanted this to be as comfortable as possible for her, but I had to admit, men had one advantage over dildos. Their equipment was a lot more flexible. The last thing I wanted was to cause her discomfort because of an awkward angle. I gently pulled on her legs, easing her down the bed until she overhung the end. She tried to rise up on her elbows to see what I was doing, looking anxious, and I quickly knelt on the floor and manipulated her firmly under my tongue, my hands caressing her stomach and thighs. She fell back with a moan, her breathing becoming heavy.

I gently inserted a finger, unsurprised to find her muscles tighter than usual. I stroked her walls, then found her inner sweet spot and massaged it, lightly at first, then more firmly. She gasped, and instinctively opened herself a little more. I withdrew and gave her outsides some more attention before returning to her insides. This time she welcomed my probing fingers without resistance. She moaned and unconsciously lifted her hips as I made a thrusting motion with my hand.

Judging she was as ready as she was ever likely to be, I swiftly withdrew my fingers, taking position over her and, before she had time to realise what I was doing, inserted the tip of the dildo instead. I pushed a little way inside her, then stopped as her eyes flew open. Her fists clenched, her expression wild as she grappled with her instinctive reaction to fight me off.

I held still. Reaching down, I found her outer pleasure centre and rubbed it gently under my thumb. A tremor rippled over her skin. After a long moment, her fists relaxed.

Still massaging, I pushed forward slowly, and gradually filled her. I held still once more, giving her time to wrap her head around the feeling. I smiled as I watched the realisation dawn on her face that, now that she had relaxed, the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. Her eyes met mine, and she ventured a shy smile of her own. I leaned forward a little, pulling her up to meet my kiss, my arms around her to steady her. She trembled, the new angle putting pressure on new places inside, but returned my kisses, tentatively at first, then with growing enthusiasm. My lips still on hers, I rocked us both fractionally back and forth, giving her a taste of what was coming, letting her anticipate how it was going to feel. She gasped softly. I pulled my lips away from hers and looked deep into her eyes as I gradually increased the motion. I smiled sadly at the confused longing in those green eyes. She was so used to being forced against her will, she was completely thrown by my gentleness. She had no understanding of the hunger that was rising within her, she only knew that what I was doing wasn’t enough.

Kissing her one more time, I gave her what she didn’t realise she wanted, partially withdrawing and then thrusting back in. Her mouth fell open, her eyes rolled into her head and she gave a startled grunt of pleasure. I slowly repeated the action, sighing a little in satisfaction as the motion caused my end of the device to press on all the right places. Hearing my sigh echoed by Tanya, I judged it safe to allow a little of my own need to creep back into my mind. Letting my instincts guide me, I began to pump my hips back and forth, slowly at first, then faster, finding a rhythm that was intoxicating.

“Oh my god,” I moaned, unable to help myself. This was better than I could possibly have imagined. The excitement of the motion; the wonderful fullness and pressure of the dildo inside me; the delicious sensation of warm, moist silicone rubbing against my outsides; the way her tight, moist well welcomed the shaft with just the right amount of resistance, creating the perfect amount of friction… it was almost too much to process. I felt Tanya’s legs lock around my waist; heard her passionate cries as I gave in to an animal urge and pumped furiously. For a seemingly endless time there was just the two of us, united in lust, moving and gasping and feeling as one. Then in a sudden surge, the intense sensations reached their peak. All I knew was sublime ecstasy as I hit my climax with a shout and collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. Tanya groaned pleadingly, still teetering on the brink. With an exhausted smile, I slid my hand back down. She had been very close, it took mere seconds to tip her over the edge. I let her linger in her moment of pleasure, savouring her delirious expression, before gently disengaging and flopping over onto my back, completely spent.

For few minutes, I was disinclined to do anything but lie there, cocooned in the warm after-glow of satisfaction, listening to our breathing gradually slow.

Eventually, I summoned the energy to remove the dildo and roll onto my side. Finding her facing away from me, I snuggled into her back, curling my body around hers. I kissed her shoulder, and she gave a soft, contented sigh, relaxing into my embrace. I smiled affectionately.

“So,” I murmured in her ear. “What did we learn today, my talented and oh-so-stubborn apprentice?”

She growled, rolling her eyes. “All right, all right. You were right.” She sighed dreamily. “You were right,” she repeated. “It _can_ feel good.” She sighed again. “It felt… amazing.”

“And?”

She grimaced. “I need to stop fighting it, and concentrate on making it easier.”

“Correct.” I kissed her proudly. “Well done, apprentice. You’ve made huge progress today.”

A flash of panic entered her eyes. “Does that mean -?”

“No,” I assured her firmly. “You’re not ready for a man yet, not by a long shot. We have a way to go before you’re ready to face the test again.” I stroked her face tenderly. “But you _will_ take it, and you will pass this time. I promise.”

A flicker of confusion crossed her face. “You really want me to pass, don’t you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I want you to pass,” I told her crossly. “I’m not prepared to have my reputation sullied by my first apprentice failing to graduate. Not to mention Madame will probably have me flogged if that happens.”

She turned to face me, her eyes searching mine intently. I averted my gaze, discomforted.

“No, she said slowly. “That’s not why you’re doing this.”

I pushed her away and sat up, scowling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. I dug in my drawer for some fresh clothing and began dressing, doing my best to ignore the gaze I could feel burning into my back.

“Yes you do,” Tanya said quietly.

Gritting my teeth, I ignored her, pulling my top over my head and reaching for my trousers. I knew what she was thinking, and I had no intention of discussing my personal feelings towards her, not in the least because I was still resolutely denying to myself that I had any.

Tanya sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes following me thoughtfully.

“I won’t tell her, you know,” she ventured eventually.

I sighed in aggravation, fastening my belt with quick, irritable movements. “Tell who what?”

“Madame. I won’t tell her what she wants to know.”

I stopped, turned, and narrowed my eyes at her. “What does she want to know?”

She smiled a little sadly. “You’re different now. I sensed it the moment you returned, and so did Madame. She wants to know what’s changed. I know your secret, but don’t worry, I’m not going to tell her.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “What are you _talking_ about? What bleeding secret?” Inwardly I quaked, wondering what was coming.

“You care,” she said simply. “You never did before. It was like you didn’t even see people. They just didn’t register to you, except as targets. But now… you see that girl next door. It matters to you, whether she lives or dies.” She lowered her eyes. “It matters to you whether I live or die. You care about me.”

I stared at her. “You’re wrong,” I forced myself to say, but even I could hear the false note in my voice. I quickly turned my back to hide my expression, squeezing my eyes shut in pain. She was wrong, I told myself desperately. She was wrong, she was imagining things. I felt nothing for Tanya except pity. I couldn’t care about her. I mustn’t. I belonged to Melanie.

 _Not entirely_ , a small, honest voice whispered in the back of my mind. _Not anymore_.

“Get dressed,” I ordered, breathing calmly through my nose to keep my voice steady.

She flinched at my tone, and silently obeyed. I stared into the fire, silently using an old mental exercise to calm my turbulent thoughts while she made herself presentable.

In control once more, I turned my head as she finished and stood at my elbow.

“What now?” she asked, subdued.

I gritted my teeth, determined to ignore the longing in her voice, the unvoiced plea for me to admit that I cared for her. I knew that yearning, that emptiness that ached to be filled, a yawning hole inside so ever-present that you didn’t even realise it was there, or how much you had been starved of human connection, until someone gave you that first taste. For me, it had been Clint who inexplicably, ludicrously, had found it within himself to care about a dangerous, damaged young woman. Cared enough to disobey the orders he had been dealt, and make a different call. Until then, I had never known what it was like for someone to care about me. As Tanya had never known, until now. I could not blame her for struggling to control the overwhelming need that feeling sparked, but she needed to get a hold of herself. Such sentiment was more than dangerous; in this place, it was suicidal.

“We train,” I replied coldly.

She flinched, and looked down. “As you wish, mentor,” she said softly.

I chewed my lip, an ache twisting my heart as I looked at her dejected figure. Giving a damn was a monumental mistake, but I couldn’t help it; after all she had already suffered in this place, I hated to be the cause of yet more pain. And there was the unwelcome truth; I did care about her. Far more than was wise, or sane. I sighed, and grudgingly relented, gently touching her chin and tipping her face towards me.

“You have other tests to pass, not just the Night Master’s,” I told her more kindly. “And more, once you graduate, you’ll be tested every day, every mission you undertake. If you’re going to get out into the world, you need to be sure you’re fully prepared for what you’ll meet there. Time to show me what else you can do.”


	13. 13.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha struggles with the ever-increasing darkness within, as well as the unwanted feelings growing between her and Tanya.

The girl attacked.

Our feet drummed on the wooden floor as we exchanged a flurry of blows. Sparring with Tanya was something of an eye-opener. It had rapidly become clear that her gifts were useful for more than simply memorising information. On our first bout, I was almost disappointed; she was good, but I still beat her easily. I instructed her to begin again… and nearly hit the deck in a matter of seconds, as she flawlessly duplicated my own attack from a minute before. I realised then that she had been purposefully holding back on the previous bout in order to study my technique. Only my greater experience saved me from an undignified knock-out; I managed to force her into a retreat, and eventually, to concede the match, but I never underestimated her again. The same trick never worked on her twice; she had not only my moves but every tiny detail that led to those moves memorised. As soon as I so much as shifted my weight, she was analysing my attack pattern, narrowing down the possibilities; if she had seen the move before, she could anticipate it. It was unnerving, almost as though she was a living version of one of Tony’s robots, capable of assessing and assimilating data faster than a human brain could imagine.

And yet, at the same time, I had never seen anyone fight _less_ like a machine. The way she moved was fascinating; she fought with a primal ferocity that felt more animal than human. That feral light I had noticed before blazed brightly in her eyes, intensely focussed on her prey, and she moved with the deadly ease of a powerful predator. She was as strong as I was, and as fast, which, added to the paradoxical combination of savage ferocity and machine-like insight, made her one of the most formidable opponents I had ever faced. The only way I maintained an edge over her was to keep doing the unexpected, but my ability to do so was dwindling fast as she added every new twist to her exhaustive inventory of my moves. It was frightening, and yet exciting at the same time. I had never had a sparring partner who could challenge me like this; we were perfectly matched, weaving around each other in an exhilarating, lethal dance.

Finally, when it became clear this bout could go on for some time without either of us landing a blow, I stopped and held up a hand. “Enough.”

She froze, her fist a scant inch from connecting. Her gaze locked on mine, her expression slightly wild, and she trembled with the effort of reigning in her bloodlust.

“Enough,” I repeated firmly. “We’ll call it a draw.”

She blinked, and her eyes cleared. Abruptly she relaxed, and smiled. The predator vanished as though it had never been, and a deceptively harmless-looking trainee once more stood before me.

“Very good,” I said approvingly. “Your control is excellent.” Inwardly, I was torn between fascination and consternation. That savage look she had when she fought was a little disturbing. There was a dark edge to her absorption; a certain relish in the violence that I didn’t care to dwell on. Tanya was quite possibly the most dangerous young woman I had ever met. The more time we spent together, the more I felt I had barely scratched the surface of the enigma she presented. One thing was certain in my mind; if she survived the Red Room, someday Tanya was going to be a force to be reckoned with.

I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or terrified.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Enter,” I called with a frown. The room we were using was in the converted attic space of the West Wing; other than Wanda, no-one else should be around, and Wanda was once more deeply sedated.

The door opened, and a small girl nervously edged around it. A young novice, probably around eight or nine years old by the look of her. “Agent Romanova,” she addressed me apprehensively, as though afraid I would eat her. “Madame B wishes you and Trainee Tanya to join her downstairs.”

My eyes narrowed. What fresh unpleasantness was in store now? I glanced at Tanya, and saw she had turned slightly pale, though her face was carefully expressionless. Whatever Madame B wanted, it had to be about her.

“Immediately,” the novice added nervously when neither of us moved.

Sensing that the poor mite really was terrified, and guessing she would face punishment if we failed to appear in good time, I abruptly nodded. Thankfully, the novice fled, and I indicated Tanya should accompany me with a curt jerk of my head.

She fell into step beside me without a word. I could feel her tension, wound like a tightly coiled spring inside her.

“Relax,” I told her softly while we were still within the relative security of the West Wing. “You don’t know there’s anything to fear yet. Worrying about possibilities is a waste of energy you might need later. Centre yourself in the moment, and you will be ready to face whatever the future holds.”

Tanya nodded. I sensed her tension lessen ever so slightly.

Madame B was waiting in the lobby. Her eyes flicked over the two of us, and seemed satisfied with what she saw. “Come,” she ordered, beckoning us to follow her.

I felt Tanya glance at me; I kept my eyes forward. We followed the woman down the corridor into the heart of the building. It took all my willpower not to glance to the side as we passed the hidden door to the underground bunker; my stomach gave an angry lurch of frustration at coming so close to my goal and being forced to pass it by. But perhaps, once this meeting was over, I might be able to forge an opportunity on the way back to the West Wing. My mind immediately began sorting through possible excuses to send Tanya on ahead and grant me enough time to search Goravitch’s office.

Madame B led us to the other side of the building, then down a brick staircase. I felt a chill as we descended to what would have originally been wine cellars, but in the current occupation were put to a far more sinister use. The rooms were empty and cheerless, their thick brick walls and solid ceilings efficient at muffling sound.

Madame B halted and indicated we should enter one such cell. Steeling myself, I walked through the doorway with Tanya at my heels, and was sickened but unsurprised to find the room contained a single occupant: a burly, sullen-faced man, his arms bound to a thick pole threaded over his shoulders, his feet and legs tied to the sturdy metal chair he sat in. What did surprise me was that I recognised the face; he was one of the security detail I had encountered the first night I was here.

“Markoff here has made some very poor decisions of late,” Madame B said icily, entering the room behind us.

I said nothing, though my heart sank into my boots. I was beginning to suspect why we had been called here, and it took all my will to keep my face expressionless.

“Markoff unwisely chose to divulge information about myself and this institution, in return for money. And even more foolishly, he now refuses to tell me exactly what information he has divulged.”

My jaw began to ache with the effort of keeping my features immobile. I knew what was coming. And sure enough…

“I wish to know what he has revealed,” Madame told me malevolently. “You may use this as an opportunity to instruct Tanya in the finer points of interrogation.”

I resisted the urge to swallow hard, clamping down with all my might on the inner voice that screamed at me to run, or better yet attack. There was no choice, none. There was nothing I could do to save this man. In the grand scheme of things, he would have been condemned to torture and death regardless, the only difference was it was now my hand that would have to accomplish it. Mine… or Tanya’s.

I glanced to the side, and was slightly disturbed to note that Tanya had relaxed completely, now that she was sure her own survival wasn’t at stake. She viewed the helpless man with no empathy, no mercy; I realised, with a pang of disquiet, that if I ordered her to torture the man, she would do so with no qualms whatsoever.

“Alert me when you have succeeded,” Madame B ordered, turning to leave. “Ensure he stays alive until I am satisfied.”

“Yes, Madame,” I said quietly. I remained motionless, staring fixedly at the unfortunate Markoff, as she swept out of the room.

Tanya stepped forward to examine the man thoughtfully. He glowered, his large jaw clenched tight. “Doesn’t look like he’s ready to talk yet,” she remarked casually. She cast me a smile over her shoulder, that savage light glinting in her eyes. “What should we remove first, do you think? The eyes? Or the fingernails?”

“You will do nothing,” I said coldly. She stepped back, surprised at the simmering anger in my tone. “Of course, mentor,” she murmured uncertainly, unsure what she had done wrong. “I only thought –“

“Silence.” Her look of shock only goaded my anger further. I was furious, but not with her. I was raging at Madame B, at the Red Room, at myself for being stupid enough to think I could come back here and escape without more blood on my hands. But my hands were already bathed in blood. Tanya’s were not. _Not yet_ , a little voice pointed out maliciously in my ear. I ignored the voice. Whatever crimes Tanya might commit in the future, right now she was still relatively untainted. Though it was probably hopeless, I was still determined to spare her that burden as long as I could. Her hands would not become stained at my bidding.

Grim resolution stiffened my spine. Banishing Natasha Romanoff and her righteous anger, I summoned Natalia Romanova forth, burying my conscience deep beneath her ruthlessness and cruelty. “You will do nothing,” I repeated quietly, and it seemed the room grew darker as Natalia’s shadow settled over my soul. “You will witness, and pray you never have to face what I am about to do.”

Cowed, Tanya nodded and stood aside. The sullen eyes of Markoff widened in sudden fear.

Drawing my knife, I advanced on my victim.

****

Scarlet stains swirled in the water that pooled by my feet before being pulled into a red vortex by the plughole. More red ran down my hands, gathered in pendulous droplets at the tips of my fingers.

I rested my forehead against the smooth tiles of the shower, my eyes staring blankly at nothing.

Natalia Romanova felt no empathy, no remorse.

Markoff was no longer capable of feeling anything.

But Natasha Romanoff, slowly re-emerging, could feel.

The trembling started in my hands, hands that could still feel the knife, still feel the resistance of the blade carving the man’s flesh. Gradually, the trembling intensified, until I was shaking uncontrollably, my teeth chattering despite the heat of the shower. I may have wept, my tears mingling with the water running down my face, but if I did, I couldn’t have said who the tears were for.

Eventually, I shut off the water. The dregs that swirled down the plughole ran clear; my body, at least, had been cleansed. Just not my soul. That still felt caked in filth that no amount of soap and water could expunge.

I would never be clean again. But then, when I had I ever been clean? What was one more blot in my ledger? Another splurge of red indistinguishable from so many others, soaked up in the indiscriminate crimson that drenched the pages. What did it matter, really?

I shuddered. That thought had been Natalia’s, not mine. Of course it mattered. Of course it did.

Didn’t it?

“I have to get out of here,” I whispered.

****

“Now then,” I said, indicating the table with an eclectic variety of weapons laid on it. “Choose a weapon.”

Tanya pursed her lips, surveying the choices. “That depends. Who am I fighting?” she asked.

“No-one at the moment. But let’s say you were being sent after me. What weapon would you choose?”

She frowned, considering, then picked up a long-range sniper rifle. “This one.”

I nodded. “Why?”

She shrugged, smiling faintly. “You’re too good to beat in a direct fight. I’d most likely end up dead or injured myself. I wouldn’t risk it. I’d take you out from a distance.”

I nodded approvingly. “Good reasoning.” I indicated she should put it back, and she replaced the rifle on the table. “All right, this time you’re going after a mafia enforcer. Big bloke, body builder, neck like a tree trunk. Your chance to get close to him is in a crowded bar. Which weapon would you choose?”

Without hesitation, she picked up a knife.

“Your reason being?”

“Quick and quiet,” she answered. “Wait for an opportune moment, get close, and slip the blade right between his ribs. He’ll drop before he knows what’s happened, and everyone will just assume he’s passed out drunk.”

“And if you miss?”

She looked vaguely insulted. “I never miss.”

I sighed and wagged a finger at her. “Don’t get cocky. Trust me, everyone misses sometimes. You can’t anticipate everything. Something can happen, your target moves at just the wrong moment, and your shot goes wide. He’s cut, he’s bleeding, but instead of being dead, he’s clutching himself and yelling blue murder and everyone’s staring at you. What are you going to do then?”

She chewed her lip. “Run like hell,” she said grudgingly.

I smiled. “Correct answer. You are an assassin, not a suicidal fanatic. You are of no use to anyone killed or captured. Always keep an eye on your escape route, and have a back-up plan in case something prevents you taking it. Never, _ever_ , start out on a mission without an exit strategy.”

“Have you ever had to run?” she asked curiously.

“Maybe.”

She cocked her head to one side, waiting.

I rolled my eyes. “If you must know, my first mission, I completely cocked up. My mentor was not happy. We had to escape into the marina, and it was mid-winter. I don’t think I stopped shivering for a week.”

Her brows shot up. “You missed your target?” she exclaimed, astounded.

I grimaced. “Not exactly. I pulled off a perfect heart shot. I just shot the wrong guy.”

She laughed gleefully. “You didn’t!”

I nodded ruefully. “In my defence, it was dark, and they all had the same jackets on. But yes. I totally screwed up.” I winced at the memory. “I still have a scar from the beating I earned from my mentor for that.”

She stilled. “Would you do that?” she asked after a long moment. “Beat me? If I fail?”

I glanced at her sharply, struck by an odd note in her voice. She avoided my gaze, a suggestion of a smile on her lips.

“I don’t need to beat you,” I said firmly. Her appetite for rough play had descended to new levels of late, a level that bypassed kink altogether and skirted the boundaries of downright sadism. On one level this was extremely disturbing, both because I suspected it had been stimulated by the unspeakable things I had done in the wine cellar, and that she inexplicably felt safe enough with me to indulge such twisted fantasies. On another level, a level that appealed to a very dark part of my nature that I was desperately trying to rein in, her goading excited me. I had always enjoyed being dominant, but this was something else. Something that fed the darkness in me, Natalia Romanova manifesting more and more often in her company. Sometimes I worried that Wanda had been right, that I was slowly losing myself; and yet the feelings I had developed for this complicated girl could only belong to Natasha Romanoff. Natalia did not care, did not feel affection. Did not know how to love.

Deeply troubled, I forced my thoughts aside, and addressed Tanya firmly. “Trust me, you will feel my displeasure if you screw up, but it won’t involve a belt.”

I tried to dismiss my disquiet at the turn the conversation had taken. At the end of the day, this was all hypothetical anyway. It wasn’t like I was really going to be mentor to Tanya. I was on a clock, and our days together were numbered. Our deadline was fast approaching. Soon, whether or not I had managed to accomplish my mission, I would be going home, leaving the Red Room, and Tanya, thousands of miles and almost two decades behind me…

The thought twisted my gut painfully. I felt torn, ripped in opposite directions. I longed to be with Melanie again, to be away from this evil place that felt like it was tightening its coils around me every day; but equally, the thought of leaving Tanya behind caused me acute distress.

I resolutely pushed the thought aside and carried on with the task at hand, taking Tanya through a dozen more scenarios, questioning her relentlessly. Overall, I was very pleased. Her reasoning was ruthlessly logical, and considering her inexperience of the world outside these walls, she had an excellent grasp of how to use her surroundings to her advantage. Once her youth was tempered by experience, she would be unstoppable. In the back of my mind, something stirred uneasily. What was I creating?

“All right, that’s enough for now,” I said finally. I glanced at my watch. “It’s getting late. Go fetch us something to eat. I’m going to take a shower.”

She smiled mischievously. “Maybe we could both take a shower…”

I rolled my eyes slightly. The girl was insatiable. “Not now,” I told her sternly. I gave her a push towards the door. “Shoo.”

She pouted, but obeyed, casting me a last, loaded glance from beneath her lashes before disappearing down the corridor.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair in frustration. Every time she left my presence I felt the same; relief to have a little breathing space, yet at the same time, I already looked forward to her return.

I tried to tell myself it was Melanie’s company I missed, Melanie’s arms I longed for, and in part that was true. I missed Melanie desperately, her absence an unceasing ache in my heart. But as much as I tried to deny it, I knew when I finally returned home, that ache would not be healed. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, I had to face the truth. Tanya had carved her own place in my heart, right beside Melanie, and from now on no matter what I did, there would always be a hole.

Ironic really, I thought bitterly. All those years thinking there was something wrong with you, that you weren’t capable of loving anyone… and now you love two.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pained. I had always viewed the torturous love triangles people got themselves caught up in as sheer stupidity on the part of the perpetrator. In my mind, such a person was an idiot, selfish and weak, to allow themselves to be tempted away from what they had, and then lack the willpower to extract themselves from their own mess. Now, I thought with resignation that I had perhaps been overly harsh. It just wasn’t that simple, when factors beyond your control made it impossible to avoid feelings developing; when both people in your life were equally captivating, both equally deserving of love…

I smothered a groan. I was doomed. No matter which path I took from this moment on, I would lose.

Mechanically, I returned to my room and headed for the shower. I let the hot water run over my body, but it could not ease the chill I felt. Try as I might, I could see no way forward that didn’t involve pain.

Tanya was waiting when I emerged from the bathroom, still towelling my hair, our evening meal laid ready on the table.

She eyed me, her welcoming smile faltering, and I cursed her extraordinary perception. It was almost impossible to hide anything from her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked worriedly.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” I replied curtly. I tossed the towel over the back of a chair and sat down, combing my fingers through my still-damp hair impatiently.

She studied me intently. “Here,” she said after a moment. “Let me.” She picked up a hairbrush from my dressing table. I closed my eyes as she moved behind me and gently began brushing out my hair. I clenched my fists, her simple gesture bringing me perilously close to tears.

“You’re in pain,” Tanya murmured. Her hands never wavered, her gentle brushstrokes strangely hypnotic.

“Yes,” I whispered unwillingly.

She was silent, the only sound the slight scraping of the bristles of the brush through my hair, yet her unspoken question hung in the air.

I chewed my lip, wrestling with myself. Despite knowing it was a terrible idea, I still yearned to confide in her, to share the burden that was dragging at my soul.

“You were right,” I murmured finally. “I never cared before, but now… now I do. And it hurts. That’s the problem with caring, Tanya. Feelings are a two-edged sword. Happiness goes hand-in-hand with pain. You can’t experience one without the other.”

Her strokes faltered a moment, then resumed. “So you… you do care about me?” she asked quietly. “I make you happy?” The joyful note in her voice was tempered by confusion. “And that’s hurting you?”

I sighed. “I’m the Black Widow. The most successful assassin the KGB has ever seen, the most dangerous woman in the world by all accounts… but do you know what made me so good at it? So deadly?”

I sensed her frown, puzzled by my use of the past tense. “You’re the best,” she answered uncertainly. “Your skills are unsurpassed…”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” I replied tiredly. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be my equal. You may even be my better, one day. But my skill at killing wasn’t what made me so dangerous.”

“Then, what?”

“I was dangerous because I didn’t care,” I said softly. “You said it yourself, I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I felt nothing, and nothing could touch me. There is nothing more dangerous than someone with nothing, Tanya, because someone with nothing has nothing to lose. I took risks no sane person would, because I didn’t care what happened to me.”

“So… what changed?” Her tone was hushed, her hands continued brushing my hair with smooth, methodical strokes, making my scalp tingle.

I was silent. I had said too much already.

“Talia?” she prompted softly after a moment. “You can tell me. I won’t tell Madame. I swear.”

“There was a man,” I admitted finally. I felt her recoil slightly and snorted. “Not like that! He was an American, another assassin, an agent of Shield. I got on their radar, and they sent him to kill me.”

“Huh,” she said thoughtfully. “And they thought one man, alone, could achieve that? I didn’t realise the Americans were so delusional.”

I smiled faintly. “Oh, he came close. He’s one of their best. Not as good as me, obviously, but not far off.”

Her brush faltered again. “You speak of him as if he’s still alive.”

“He is,” I admitted wearily. “I didn’t kill him.”

“You… you didn’t?”

“I was going to. We fought. It was close, but I won. I had my gun to his head, I was going to pull the trigger, but then… then I saw something. And everything changed.”

She stopped brushing, moved around me and lowered herself into a chair, her expression rapt. “What did you see?” she asked in hushed tones.

I averted my eyes, unsure whether I wanted to share that with her, yet feeling oddly compelled to go on now that I had started. I had never told anyone about this before, not even Melanie. “A photograph. It was lying there in the snow, it had fallen out of his pocket. It was a photo of him, with his arms around a woman and… and a baby…”

She stared at me, not understanding the emotion in my voice. “I don’t understand. So he had a family, so what? So did a lot of the people you’ve killed, I imagine. It never stopped you before.”

“This was different,” I said softly. “He wasn’t a target, he was an assassin, like me. He should have been _exactly_ like me. Nothing but a weapon, a tool in the hands of his masters. He shouldn’t have cared whether he died. But he did. He felt my gun against his head, and he knew he had failed, that I was going to kill him… he didn’t look at me. He looked at that photo, lying there in the snow, and… I could see it in his eyes, how much it hurt him. Not that he was going to die, not that he would never see them again… but that _they_ would never see _him_ again. That he would never return to his farm, that his wife would be left to raise their son alone, and the boy would grow up never knowing his father…” I cleared my throat uncomfortably.

“What did you do?” Tanya asked softly.

“I walked away.”

“You let him live?”

“Yes.”

She cocked her head to one side. “But he tried to kill you.”

I shrugged. “He failed.”

She studied me, a little frustrated. “I still don’t understand… why did that change anything?”

“Because I realised I didn’t have to feel nothing,” I said softly. “I always thought it was just the way I was, but it wasn’t. I was made that way. Madame, the Brethren, this place, they made me that way. They wanted me to believe that I had no place in the world, that I could never be anything more than a tool, a weapon. They even took away my ability to bear a child, and I let them, because they told me it was necessary, because even the possibility of love was a liability. And yet, there in front of me, was proof that they lied. That man is a good agent, a skilled assassin. He came within a whisker of killing me, that’s how good he is. And the Americans managed to produce an agent of that calibre without sacrificing his humanity.” A single tear trickled down my nose. “He looked at that photo of his child with such love… I couldn’t kill that. I couldn’t take away such a miracle.”

Tanya’s jaw hung open. “That’s what changed? You realised you wanted a _child_?”

“I realised I could never have one,” I corrected. “And in that moment… I cared that I couldn’t. That I could never have a child; never feel the love I had seen in his eyes… They took that possibility away from me.” My voice hardened. “Madame took it away. She told me it was necessary, but she lied. She took away the most precious gift I had, the ability to create _life_ , and I will never, ever forgive her for that!”

Tanya was silent, but her fingers curled around mine.

“You do have something though,” she said in a small voice. “You can’t have a child but… you do have me.”

She didn’t say the words, perhaps didn’t dare, but they hung heavily in the air around us nonetheless. I closed my eyes at the sharp pain beneath my ribcage.

“You think you love me?” I whispered harshly. “After what, not quite three weeks of my company, you think this is love?”

“You know it is,” she said, very quietly. “You fight it, but I know you feel the same, Talia. And it hasn’t been only three weeks. I’ve loved you for years, from the moment I first laid eyes on you. I was five, and you were a few years older, maybe about eight or nine. I knelt on that ballroom floor and I watched you dance… I didn’t even feel the pain in my knees. I could have watched you dance forever. You were perfect.”

I stared at her, swallowing. “Tanya, I… I don’t…”

She smiled faintly. “It’s okay. I know you don’t remember me. You were very focussed on surviving, and I can’t blame you for that. Madame put you through more trials than anybody else. No-one had to fight harder than you to stay alive. She pushed you relentlessly, for years. Sometimes I wondered how you bore it, how you never cracked under the pressure.”

“The same way you did I imagine,” I muttered uncomfortably.

She shook her head. “I never had to go through what you did. I was different. They discovered what I could do early on. I was separated from the others and kept here in the West Wing, never put through the same trials that you were.”

“I was expendable,” I muttered bitterly. “You weren’t.”

She shook her head again. “No, I don’t think so. You were special too, that’s why she pushed you so hard. I don’t think she would have allowed you to die, but she never needed to intervene. You never lost. She was fascinated by that, by your instinct for survival. By the time she took you downstairs, you had more kills under your belt than everyone else combined.”

I glanced at her sharply. “What do you know about downstairs?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t allowed to tell anybody about it, but once they discovered what I could do… I was taken down there every few months for tests.”

I shuddered. That teenagers were led down there to be tortured was bad enough, but the thought of a five-year-old child being forced to witness the horrors that went on within that chamber; a child, moreover, who could never forget any detail of what she had seen… It was inhuman.

Tanya seemed to read my thoughts on my face. “It wasn’t as bad as you think,” she said softly. She shrugged again, a flicker of something I couldn’t decipher crossing her face. “The scientist, Goravitch, he was very interested in me. He didn’t want any distractions while he worked, so the rest of his… subjects… were kept locked away where I couldn’t see them. But I could still hear them. I would hear them crying… and sometimes I would hear a voice I recognised, the voice of one or other of the older trainees, the ones that had mysteriously vanished not long before. Everyone else was mostly too focussed on their own problems to pay attention, but I notice everything. Every now and then, a few faces would disappear. Not that that was unusual, kids died all the time, but this was different. It was always the older ones, the ones who had reached a certain stage. Often they vanished for good, but sometimes, after a month, one, occasionally two, reappeared. They were moved to the West Wing, became senior trainees. I realised fairly early that no-one became a senior trainee unless they survived whatever that monster downstairs put them through.”

I swallowed. “Do you know what he did to me?” I asked softly.

She winced. “Not specifically. You were gone far longer than any of the others. When you didn’t come back after a month, I wanted to go down there to look for you, if only to see your body, say goodbye, but I never got the chance. Madame knew I watched the other trainees. She knew I watched you more than anyone else, so she made sure I couldn’t go looking for you. I don’t think I was left alone for a moment the entire six months you were gone.”

“Six… six months…” I whispered, aghast. “They had me down there for six months!”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I don’t know what he did to you… They didn’t take me down for my usual tests, so I thought maybe you were the reason… that Goravitch was too busy with you to bother with me. I hated the thought of what you might be going through, but I couldn’t help hoping that you were still alive… and then exactly six months later, you suddenly turned up again. I’ve never been so relieved in my life.”

“Six months,” I repeated numbly. Goravitch had tortured me for half a year. _Why_? And how on earth had I survived?

“That was the day I realised I loved you,” Tanya murmured. “When I saw you again, in your senior trainee greys, I was so thankful… and so _angry_ … that was the first day I truly _wanted_ to use the skills they were teaching me. I wanted to kill them for what they had done to you. I wanted them to suffer, like you had suffered.” Her eyes glittered dangerously. “You say you’ll never forgive Madame for what she did to you. Neither will I. One day, she will regret everything she has done, to both of us. One day, the screams I will be forced to remember for the rest of my life will be hers, and I promise you, she will beg for death a thousand times over before I am through.”

I frowned. The feral light was back in her eyes, an avid gleam that troubled me deeply. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed. I knew her intimately enough by now to know when she was aroused. Whatever she was imagining, it excited her.

“Tanya,” I said sharply, a bitter taste in my mouth. “Stop it.”

She started, then her eyes refocussed. The indecent gleam vanished once more. I studied her intently, determined to nip this sinister behaviour in the bud, but once again just a simply dressed, innocent-looking trainee looked back at me, leaving me to wonder if I had imagined what I had seen. I shook my head, baffled by the complexity of this girl – no, this young woman – who had somehow wormed her way into my affections. It was as though her extraordinary perception made her experience the world at a far deeper level than anyone else could; as though she lived every moment so much more intensely than everyone else. Gazing at her thoughtfully, I realised it was tantamount to a miracle that she was even sane. That she was still capable of love was beyond miraculous. It was astonishing.

She looked wary, unsure if I was angry. I sighed, and opened my arms. She smiled, her face lighting up, and bounded lightly onto my lap like an eager puppy, snuggling into my embrace and tilting her face for a kiss. I laughed softly, finding her sudden playfulness strangely endearing, and complied, my lips lingering on hers. It was quite mesmerising really, the lightning fast way she could change from a deadly dangerous adversary to merely a besotted teenager.

“Enough,” I said after a long moment, laying a finger on her lips when she tried to kiss me again. “Let’s eat, and then we have some more practicing to do.”

She smiled. “You know, I think you’re starting to get a little too attached to Doris…”

I frowned. “Doris?”

Her smile widened. “Doris the dildo.”

I rolled my eyes. “You gave it a name? Why the hell would you give it a name?”

She laughed. “I just wanted to see the look on your face. It was funny.”

I shook my head ruefully. “I’m glad I amuse you.” I tipped her off my lap, swatting her on the bottom. She laughed and settled back into her own chair.

Luckily, the meal that had been sat waiting all this time consisted of things that tasted fine cold. I barely noticed what I was eating, too wrapped up in the mysteries of the girl beside me. She watched me knowingly from beneath long dark lashes, and I flushed without knowing why, more confused than ever.

She laid her knife and fork down, precisely in the centre of her plate, and smiled suggestively. “Time to practice?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” I scolded her, halting her when she would have hurled herself back into my lap. “Not so fast, my eager young apprentice. I think you’re forgetting what all this is in aid of.”

She rolled her eyes, scowling. “I forget nothing.”

“Good. Because we’re running out of time, and I want to make sure you pass that test before…” I halted abruptly. “Before Madame changes her mind about this arrangement,” I finished hurriedly, inwardly cursing myself. I had almost said “before I leave.” I was slipping.

Tanya’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. I knew she wasn’t fooled, she knew that wasn’t what I had been going to say, but after regarding me for a long moment, she let it go. I made haste to distract her, removing the dildo from its box and laying it ready on the bed. I rummaged in my drawer and produced a couple of other items the Night Master had provided, deciding it was time we discussed practical matters.

Tanya examined the tube of lubricant thoughtfully, then frowned, picking up the small square packet beside it. “What’s this?”

“It’s a condom,” I said firmly.

Her brows shot up. “I don’t think Doris needs one.”

“Doris –“ I grimaced that I had been gulled into using the ridiculous name, “ – may not, but you do. When you do this for real, you have to take precautions. At the moment, you can still get pregnant. Even once that is impossible,” I clenched my jaw, momentarily overwhelmed by murderous rage at the thought of her perfectly healthy organs being forcibly taken from her in their sickening ceremony, but forced myself to continue, “there is still the issue of disease to consider. You need to know how to keep yourself safe.”

She curled her lip in distaste. “I know how to put on a condom, Talia.”

“Good,” I said lightly. “Then you’ll remember to use one every time from now on. Even when it’s just practice.”

She sighed, but nodded. “What’s the lubricant for? I don’t need it.”

“You haven’t needed it so far, no,” I corrected quietly. “But you might today. And even if you don’t, you will for the real thing, so you need to practice using it.”

“Why might I need it today?” she asked, a little alarmed.

I sighed. “Because we need to go to the next stage. You’ve learned that it can be pleasurable now, you have some good experiences under your belt, you’ve stopped fighting it. Now you need to learn to use that experience to help you get through the real thing. So today, my apprentice, you will have to imagine that you are not sleeping with me. You have to imagine that I am a man.”

She pulled a face. “Do we have to? I really had something far more personal in mind.” Her hands cupped my breasts, her lips curving suggestively.

I shook my head firmly, and she groaned, letting go of me in disappointment. “Fine.”

I smiled at her glum face. “Do well at your task, and I promise you’ll have your reward afterwards,” I murmured.

Her lips twitched. “Mmmmm. I like the sound of that.”

“Well you know what you need to do to earn it, don’t you,” I said lightly. I handed her the lubricant. “You’ll need to apply this right before, so go do it in the bathroom. Don’t stint.”

She heaved a sigh, and obeyed.

Composing myself, I took a deep breath and quickly made my preparations, trying to imagine myself as a man. The dildo certainly helped with that, although I imagined most men had less trouble keeping their erection inside their trousers. Admittedly, their equipment wasn’t made of silicone, and their clothing was probably less tight…

“You look ridiculous,” Tanya commented from behind me.

I turned to find her leaning in the bathroom doorway, and shrugged with a small smile. “Men usually do when they’re excited,” I said drily. I wagged my finger at her, frowning. “And I hope you’re not going to say that, because trust me, it won’t be a good start.”

She rolled her eyes.

“So,” I continued doggedly. “Imagine this is your test, and I am your subject. You’ve been sent to my room, and I’m waiting for you.” I sat down on the bed, gingerly. “What are you going to do first?”

She bit her lip. “Do I have to kiss him?”

“Not necessarily. He might try to kiss you, if he’s the type that’s into that, but there are ways to distract him.” I raised my brows, waiting. “So go ahead. Distract me. Remember, _you_ are in control here, apprentice. You are not some common whore, you are an assassin. He is a target. For whatever reason, you have to sleep with him first, but make no mistake, you are the predator, and he is the prey. You just can’t let him realise that until it’s too late.”

A gleam entered her eyes at that. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then slowly began to unbutton her shirt, a hint of a seductive smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

I watched her lazily as she slid the fabric sensuously from her shoulders. I didn’t have to pretend to enjoy the view. She was magnificent.

She moved onto her trousers, allowing them to fall. Getting into character, I plastered an eager leer on my face and unfastened my own trousers with some relief, freeing my straining albeit fake member. She shot me a disgusted look as I played with it, and I frowned at her in silent reprimand for losing her concentration. She cast her eyes heavenward, but dutifully completed her little strip tease. She did as I had suggested and kept her back to me as much as possible, flashing coy smiles over her shoulder and revealing tantalising little glimpses of breast. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as she bent over in exaggerated fashion to remove her underwear, all but thrusting her beautiful buttocks in my face. I made an eager grab, pulling her backwards into my arms.

She deftly disengaged, still smiling, and pushed me back onto the pillows. Hooking her fingers under my waistband, she pulled off my trousers. I watched with approval as she produced the condom and sheathed my fake erection, then my brows shot up in surprise as she continued to give it her undivided attention, first with her hands, then her mouth. I almost forgot to pretend that I could feel what she was doing I was so mesmerised. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I found it almost as arousing as if the dildo really was part of me. She was getting full marks for that part of her performance anyway, and I was fairly sure any man would agree.

She hesitated as I rolled her over and started fondling and kissing her breasts roughly, trying to simulate a manner as different as possible from my own. I felt her tense as I thrust a hand between her legs, touching her clumsily. I smiled slightly at the moisture I felt on my fingers. She had certainly not stinted on the lubricant, not that any man would realise that. He would simply think she was wet with desire for him, and it would enflame him all the more. She endured my touch for a minute, then guided my hands back to her breasts and I returned to fondling them enthusiastically while she slid her hands up my back, beneath my shirt.

I moved to spread her legs, curious to see what she would do.

She disengaged gracefully, turning her back and guiding my arms around her, allowing me to nuzzle her neck and fondle her breasts some more. I silently applauded her on her adroit avoidance of being trapped in the missionary position. She leaned forward, stretching luxuriously on all fours, and flashed a smile over her shoulder. She flexed her buttocks and parted her legs, her moist well an open invitation. I let out an involuntary groan of hunger, suddenly more than eager to play my part. Kneeling behind her, my hands pulling at her hips, I penetrated her deeply, moaning in satisfaction as the resistance of her tight opening transferred through the silicone, putting pressure on all the right places. For once, I threw caution to the winds, and gave myself up completely to my own pleasure, pumping with abandon and gasping in unrestrained lust. I found room in the back of my mind to note that she adjusted her position slightly to make my motion smoother, moving in rhythm with me, and if she wasn’t as vocal as she usually was, she did at least make a creditable attempt at feigning enjoyment.

She stilled as I cried out in release, then disengaged, leaving me to slump down on the bed, sated and exhausted. No wonder men tended to fall asleep so quickly, I thought idly, stifling a yawn. That was a workout.

“Talia?” Tanya murmured in a small voice.

“Mmmmm?” I looked over, and winced at her expression.

“Hey,” I whispered gently, scooting over and wrapping her in my embrace. “Hush, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

She trembled in my arms.

Sighing, I snagged a blanket and wrapped it snuggly around her. For once, I thought she would probably feel better with less flesh exposed. I cradled her against my chest, simply holding her.

“You did very well,” I whispered comfortingly. “I’m proud of you.”

She shuddered, hiding her face in my shoulder. “It felt like you weren’t here anymore. Like you were someone else. Like you didn’t care.”

“Well, that was kind of the point,” I reminded her. I stroked her hair gently. “I’m sorry, Tanya. I wish this wasn’t necessary, I really do. But you did amazing.” I paused, then added more quietly, “I’m almost jealous of any man that gets to have you. He’s not going to know what hit him.”

She sighed, snuggling deeper into my embrace. “Don’t be silly. No-one will ever have what you do. I’m yours, Talia. Forever.”

I bit my lip, striving not to flinch at the searing pain in my heart. I can’t do this, I thought miserably. I can’t do this to her, I can’t leave her! She loves me… and I love her… but Melanie, I love Melanie, I can’t live without her! If this is love, I thought in despair, maybe I wasn’t so badly off without it… I had never felt so conflicted in my life. I could almost hear the rending sound of my heart being ripped in two.

Resolutely, I thrust my distress aside, burying it deep to deal with later. Tanya deserved better than a preoccupied lover tonight.

“Would you like to stay here with me tonight?” I murmured.

Tanya glanced up, surprised. Though our activities frequently kept us up until late, up until now I had always sent her back to her own room afterwards, as though that

somehow kept a distance between us, kept this entanglement from becoming something more, allowed me to keep up the pretence that I kept repeating to Wanda; that this was just sex, nothing more.

Now, for this one night at least, I suddenly wanted it to be more. No matter what the cost, I wanted to give Tanya that. I wanted her to experience what Melanie had given me; what it felt like to fall asleep in someone’s arms, to wake up beside them in the morning, to feel secure and protected within their embrace. To _know_ , without a shadow of doubt, that she was loved.

She smiled tentatively. “I’d like that,” she whispered shyly.

I smiled back, swallowing a lump in my throat. “Good. No, don’t,” I added, laying my hand over hers as she reached for me. “The rest of tonight is all about you. You more than earned your reward; I think its high time you experienced a little pampering.”

She cocked her head to one side, genuinely confused. “I don’t understand. What does that word mean?”

I raised an eyebrow, then chuckled somewhat ruefully as I realised I probably hadn’t known the meaning of the word until I left this place either.

“It means,” I said, touching my lips briefly to hers, “that you don’t need to do anything. All you need to do is enjoy yourself, and feel beautiful.”

She watched, not understanding, as I left her for a moment to retrieve the hairbrush she had left on the table. Smiling at her bafflement, I gently turned her, tucking the blanket more snugly around her. She shivered slightly as I began brushing her hair, as unsettled as I had been at the unfamiliar care. Gradually she relaxed and began to enjoy the attention, breathing a soft sigh of contentment.

I brushed her dark tresses until they shone, relishing the feeling of the soft strands slipping through my fingers. Laying the brush aside, I kneaded her shoulders.

“Mmmmm,” she murmured. “That feels nice.”

“That’s the idea,” I whispered back. I encouraged her to lay down on her front, and she did so willingly, unsure what I was doing but trusting it would be pleasant. I folded the blanket back and straddled her hips, running my hands over her back. Locating a few knots of tension, I worked them gently but firmly under my fingers.

“Where did you learn to do this?” she asked with another sigh of pleasure. “It feels really good.”

I chuckled. “Its called a massage. Outside these walls, there are places called spas where you get to spend all day being treated like a queen and made to feel good. They have treatments for your face and hands and feet, and you can have your nails filed and painted in wonderful designs. You can have scented oils applied to your skin, and every inch of your body massaged…”

“Sounds very strange,” she mumbled dreamily.

I laughed. “It is a bit strange, I guess. But highly enjoyable nonetheless.”

“Mmmmm,” she agreed, burrowing more comfortably into the bed. “I could get used to it.”

Smiling, I applied myself to the task of rooting out every tense and weary muscle, coaxing them to relax.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly.

“For what?”

“For coming back.”

I grimaced. “It wasn’t my choice,” I lied, glad my face was hidden from her sight.

“I know. But I’m so glad you did. I was in such a dark place before. I thought I was going to die here, that I would never see beyond these walls, that I would never see you again…”

“You probably still wouldn’t have seen me,” I reminded her, frowning. “The world is a big place.”

She shrugged, smiling faintly. “I would have found you. Whatever it took, I would have found you. It was all that kept me going after you left. The thought that someday I would also get to leave, and I could see you again. When I failed that test…” Her jaw clenched. “I _tried_ , Talia, I tried to do what they wanted. I told myself I could do it, that it was my only chance of seeing you again… but I couldn’t, I panicked, and when I tried to get away, he hit me and held me down....” Her expression turned savage. “I got so angry, I didn’t care anymore, I didn’t care about anything except making him hurt… And then they rushed in and hauled me off him, and there was blood everywhere…”

“Hush,” I soothed her gently, disturbed. “Now then, you’re undoing all my hard work here. Relax. That’s in the past. It won’t be like that again, I promise.” I made a mental note to speak to Madame about the choice of subject. I ignored the quiet warning bells that her reaction set ringing in the back of my mind; she had, after all, been provoked. “Soon it will be all over, and you will be free of this place. There’s an amazing world out there, waiting for you…”

Her face relaxed. “And you’ll show it to me,” she said dreamily. “We’ll see it together…”

I closed my eyes briefly to supress the wrench in my heart. “Yes,” I whispered reluctantly. “Together…”

She shifted, sensing something amiss, and I hurriedly bent back to my task. She relaxed again with a sigh, enjoying my kneading hands as I slowly worked my way over her body. She shivered in delight as I finally turned my attention to more intimate regions of her anatomy, wriggling impatiently. Smiling, I refused to rush, settling myself comfortably and taking my time, my touch staying tantalisingly gentle. Her soft sounds of pleasure were almost as satisfying as being on the receiving end. I revelled in the tension building within her body, teasing her to previously unreached heights.

“Talia,” she moaned rapturously. “Oh Talia, please… please…” Her back arched, and she pushed herself more firmly into me, begging me to give her release.

Chuckling softly, I teased her for another minute before finally relenting.

She cried out deliriously, rendered almost insensible by the sudden intensity of sensation. Less than a minute later, she lay limply in my arms, her head on my chest, wrung out and exhausted from her explosive climax. I held her tenderly, stroking her back. When she didn’t move after a few minutes, I raised my head slightly to peer at her, and smiled. More relaxed than I suspected she had ever been in her life, Tanya was fast asleep. I gently eased her into a more comfortable position, and she sighed deeply, unconsciously snuggling closer. I studied her face, peaceful in slumber, so completely at odds with the raging conflict warring within my own breast.

“I love you,” I whispered softly. My fingers lightly stroked her hair. “I want you to know that. Whatever happens, however dark and lonely the days to come may seem... I want you to know that I cared for you, deeply. You are an amazing, incredible person, and you deserve so much more than this… I wish it didn’t have to be this way, Tanya. I wish there was a way I could take you with me…”

My breath caught, and I frowned suddenly. Warned by a quiet sound from Tanya, I forced myself to relax once more before I awakened her.

 _What if there is a way?_ I thought, my mind racing. _It’s possible to bring objects back, after all that was why we built the time machine in the first place, to bring back the infinity stones… Hell, it must be possible to bring people too, Thanos managed to bring an entire army forward in time by hijacking Nebula’s timepiece…_ I hadn’t actually been there for that, but I had heard the story often enough since I returned. So why not take Tanya back?

 _Are you insane?_ another part of my brain argued fiercely. _How are you going to explain that to Melanie? What do you think you’re going to do with two women, work out some kind of rota system? One gets you during the week, the other gets the weekends? Melanie won’t stand for that! She’s amazingly understanding, yes, but that’s a bit much to swallow, even for her! And Tanya! You’re all she has, the only thing she cares about, the only thing that’s kept her sane through everything she’s endured… you’re only going to hurt her more by taking her with you, only for her to find out you have someone else in your life…_

 _But at least I’d know she was safe,_ I argued back. _At least she would know that I cared enough not to leave her behind, surely that’s better than abandoning her here? I would be able to tell her the truth, explain everything. Even if the truth is painful, surely it would be less painful than to leave her to believe I just dumped her and ran off, that I lied to her, that I never cared for her at all? Just left her to the mercy of a raging Madame B? Even if she survives that, she’ll still be stuck in this hateful existence, forced to go through that barbaric graduation ceremony just to leave this place… Melanie would never condemn anyone to that, no matter what the cost to her personally. She has more compassion than anyone I’ve ever met. She will be hurt, but she could never hate me for loving someone. She wouldn’t expect me to abandon someone I care about to such a horrendous fate, just to spare her feelings._

The internal voice was silent.

No, I thought in grim determination. It might seem like the simpler option to leave Tanya here, to go back to Melanie and hopefully repair the damage I had done to our relationship without Tanya’s physical presence to mess things up; but I knew I would never rest easily again. The knowledge of what I had done to Tanya would haunt me forever, and Melanie would be made miserable by my unhappiness. As complicated and messy and emotionally damaging as it would be to all three of us, taking Tanya with me to the future was still the lesser of the two evils. At least this way, I could be honest with both the women I loved. Somehow, some way, we would work it out.

But before any of us could go home, there was the small problem of completing my mission. I needed a way to distract both Tanya and Madame B long enough for me to get back downstairs and find the intelligence we had come here for, before the KGB discovered my defection. Wanda and I had already lingered in the past longer than I was comfortable with. My other self was now well established on American soil, and as soon as the KGB got word of that, I was in serious danger. They might be confused as to how I could be both here and there, but I would be immediately arrested for interrogation, and I did not fancy that experience in the slightest. Time was my enemy now. I had to get into that bunker, and soon.

An idea occurred to me then, and I stifled a groan of dismay. It was an absolutely loathsome thought… but if Tanya were to take the Night Master’s test, she would be out of the way, and hopefully Madame B would so preoccupied with the question of whether or not she was going to have to execute one of her three most prized possessions, she wouldn’t be paying any attention to what I was doing for a change.

It was the most distasteful distraction I had ever come up with, and I hated myself for even considering it, but I was out of both time and options.

She would have had to take the test anyway, I tried to tell myself. At least, once I had gotten what I had come for, I could make it up to her by freeing her from this terrible place. She would never be forced to become the monster that I had, never have to go through that barbaric excuse for a graduation ceremony… assuming she survived the test.

I quailed a little at that thought… if Tanya’s nerve failed her… but no, she had come a long way, her performance tonight had proved it. She was prepared now, she had the tools to get through the ordeal, and no matter how terrible it was, she knew I would be right here to hold her afterwards. I was confident that she would get through it, but I wished desperately that it wasn’t necessary. If only there was another way… but there wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, Tanya,” I whispered. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish I dared tell you now, I wish I could give you a choice… but I can’t. Forgive me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to any men reading this - obviously I am in no way suggesting that all men are so crude in bed, just the type of man Tanya would most likely get landed with!


	14. 14.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to unravel as Natasha desperately tries to save both Wanda and Tanya.

The following morning, I informed Madame that Tanya was ready for the tests.

“I see,” she remarked, regarding me intently. “And you are confident she will pass? You know the penalty if she does not.”

I steeled myself and nodded. “She’ll pass,” I returned evenly. “She is remarkable. Although, I would respectfully suggest a little care be taken in your choice of subjects.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew she understood me. “Very well,” she said finally. “So be it. Inform Tanya her tests will begin tonight.”

I inclined my head, and left.

 _We’re running out of time_ , I thought carefully at Wanda as we sat down to our noon meal in her room. _We can’t risk staying any longer. We’ll go home tonight. I’m going to make one last attempt to get into the bunker, but either way, we will get out of here by tonight. Don’t drink all that juice this time. Just drink about half. You’ll be easier to wake, later._

I saw the fervent relief in her eyes as she sipped her juice, and shared it. I had never felt so desperate for an assignment to end in my life. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Wanda, on her first undercover mission. She hadn’t had to do anything as distasteful as I had to maintain her cover, but she was still getting a baptism of fire. Acting a role, day after day, under the malevolent eyes of Madame B and Vladimir, knowing death would be the penalty for any lapse, was no easy feat. I was extremely proud of her performance, but it was perhaps a blessing in disguise that she had been sedated so much. At least she had only had to bear the pressure for manageable periods of time.

Once Wanda was curled up in bed, the drug taking effect, I set my last-ditch plan in motion.

Tanya was waiting for me, as usual, and I led her straight to my room. She accepted the news of what she faced tonight without protest, her face showing a mixture of anxiety and grim determination.

“You’ll do fine,” I reassured her. I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly. “Just do exactly what we’ve practiced, and it will be over soon enough, and you won’t have it hanging over you anymore. We’ll be free to leave.” Albeit, I added silently, not quite in the manner she was expecting.

Tanya nodded resolutely. “I won’t let you down,” she replied softly.

Tears stinging my eyes at her bravery, wishing once again with all my heart that it wasn’t necessary, I tried to make it up to her the only way I could, conflicted over the knowledge that this would be the last time I could touch her.

As the afternoon slipped inexorably towards evening, she lay in my embrace, still gasping from my efforts, her expression deliriously happy. I cuddled her close and tried to fix this moment in my memory; this one last moment where the two of us could be together.

In a few hours, it was all going to get a lot more complicated.

Reluctantly, I nudged Tanya out of her doze. It was time for her to get ready.

She accepted the inevitable, and it caused me another pang to note the blissful smile remained on her face as we both rose and dressed. While she disappeared into the bathroom to take care of necessary things, I quickly secreted my entire small arsenal of weapons on my person, just in case. It didn’t take long, I was accustomed to arming myself in a hurry; everything was safely out of sight before Tanya reappeared from the bathroom.

“Ready?” I asked her quietly.

She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Ready,” she replied with determination.

I kissed her fiercely one last time. “I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled gratefully.

We left the West Wing together, walking side by side down the oak staircase. Madame B waited at the foot, and beside her was the Night Master. He raised an eyebrow ever so slightly at me, asking if I was sure about this. I returned a slight nod.

“Come,” he said quietly to Tanya.

She glanced at me, and I gave her a small smile. She nodded, and turned and followed the Night Master without a word.

Madame B bestowed a long, thoughtful look upon me before walking after them.

I waited, unmoving at the bottom of the stairs, until I heard their footsteps fade away, then made my way purposefully down the opposite corridor. I glanced furtively around as I neared the entrance to the bunker, checking for witnesses.

I was alone.

It was now or never.

Abandoning caution, I quickly slid through the hidden door.

Listening intently, I made my way through the bunker, my finger on the trigger of the handgun that I removed from the back of my trousers. Apparently I was luckier than I had any right to be, because it was as empty as it had been the first time, when it had been the middle of the night. Goravitch was still absent, and must have taken his assistants with him. Either that or they were assigned elsewhere while he was gone. I let myself quietly into his office.

As quickly and quietly as I could, I activated the pendent and worked through the drawers of his filing cabinet, capturing every piece of paper I could find on camera. That done, I removed the pendent and slid it on top of his computer to download the hard drive.

The download was three quarters complete when the sound of voices came to my ears. Loud footsteps cut off my retreat.

Swearing silently, I hurriedly ducked under the desk, pulling my legs into my chest and praying that whoever it was wouldn’t come in here. However, it appeared that my luck had just run out. I broke into a cold sweat as I recognised the voice that was coming nearer.

At the worst possible time, Goravitch had returned to his lair.

I huddled tighter under the desk as the office door opened. My hand slid back to my gun.

“Set up the machine,” Goravitch was ordering his assistants in the corridor, his hand on the door. “Make sure everything is ready… Ah, Madame, I trust you are well?”

_Hellfire! So much for Tanya’s test keeping Madame B occupied!_

“Perfectly well, thank you, Antonin. I hope you have had a productive trip.” Madame B’s stony voice was clipped, as though irritated by the small talk.

I hoped the pendent had finished downloading, because that was all I was going to get. I eased my hand over and picked it up silently, then pressed myself as tight against the wall as I could manage as two pairs of feet walked into my field of vision.

“It would have been more productive, had I not been called away from it,” Goravitch responded sullenly. “This new discovery of yours had better be worth my time. You know I only have limited windows to work on the Winter Soldier while he is out of cryostasis.”

I stifled a gasp of shock. _That_ was where Goravitch had been? Working on _Bucky Barnes?_ My mind reeled at the implications of that.

“I am aware,” Madame B replied smoothly. “Trust me, this one is even more valuable. Her powers are extraordinary.”

“Telekinesis you say?” Goravitch mused. “I must say, I was sceptical when I received your message. We have never found anyone with such an ability before. Where did you find her?”

“Natalia found her in Kiev.”

“Natalia?”

I shivered involuntarily at the delighted caress in his voice when he said my name. My finger curled more tightly around the trigger of my weapon.

“Natalia is here?”

“She is. And before you start, the answer is no, Antonin.”

“Madame, I beg you, if she’s here… if you’ll only allow me a short time to work on her, I swear the results will be worth it. You’ve seen what she is capable of –“

“I have, Antonin,” Madame cut him off impatiently, “and as I have reminded you on countless occasions, her abilities are of no use to me if they only manifest under torture. I have no intention of squandering her talents merely to allow you to indulge in your sadistic pleasures. Even without her little party piece, she is the finest weapon we have ever forged.”

 _What are they talking about?_ I asked silently in my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. _What party piece?_

“But she could be so much more,” Goravitch argued. He sounded angry.

“And she will be,” Madame replied, supremely unconcerned. “I still have high hopes she will discover for herself what she is capable of. There are promising signs. I have noticed a significant difference in her since she returned. She is changing, discovering things about herself. She is even starting to recover her memories. I caught her sneaking out of this place the first night she was here.”

“She remembers what happened here?” Goravitch breathed eagerly. “How much?”

“Not all of it, or not yet,” she answered coolly. “But I am confident she will. And when she discovers what she can do, the world will tremble.”

“And if she learns that, and more to the point, learns to control it,” Goravitch said coldly, “how are you planning to control _her_? She could well be your undoing, _Madame_.”

“Natalia is loyal to me,” she returned, unruffled. “It’s quite quaint, really, the lengths she will go to in order to keep my approval. She is proving unexpectedly malleable. I now have the means to ensure her compliance, should it be necessary. And if something should go awry… well, if your machine works on the girl, I have no reason to believe it won’t work on Natalia.”

Her heels scraped against the floor as she turned sharply. “You are confident this machine will do what I need? The girl is no use to me if she forgets how to use her powers. I want a manageable asset, free of trauma-induced incidents, not a vegetable.”

“I cannot say for sure, as we have never had anyone with such powers to test it on before,” he snapped back sulkily. “But I am confident. The machine has worked on the Winter Soldier many times. It supresses his memories, his personality, but leaves all of his training and skills intact. I have no reason to believe the girl will lose control of her abilities once we wipe her mind. She will be a perfect piece of blank marble, ready for you to carve into any shape you desire.”

I felt alarm clutch at my spine. They were talking about Wanda! And the machine… the machine Hydra had used to control Bucky Barnes, wiping his memories at frequent intervals, supressing his own personality so that all there was left was Hydra’s brainwashing. Steve had told me about it. And now it was here, and they were going to use it on Wanda!

I silently raged, every foul word I knew rebounding around inside my head.

I had thought they were going along with my suggestion of subtle manipulation, but clearly Madame B had reached the limits of her patience. She wanted a faster, surer method of gaining absolute control over Wanda. And apparently, potentially, over me as well. I squeezed my eyes shut, my head whirling with confusion. I didn’t understand. I had nothing that could compare with what Wanda could do. _Why_ would she need to control me?

“Where is the girl now?” Goravitch asked.

“Sedated at present,” Madame answered. “I sent Skuler to fetch her. We need to move quickly; that fool Vladimir has finally returned to Moscow, but he will be back. I need the girl under _my_ control before he returns.”

This conversation was sending me reeling, my mind churning with so many unanswered questions it was all I could do not to gasp. I held myself tightly immobile, fighting to control my thoughts. The revelations, the questions, all of it was going to have to wait.

There was only one thing that mattered right now.

They were going to put Wanda in the memory suppressing machine. Now. They were going to wipe her mind, and then rewrite it the way they wanted it. And thanks to my brilliant idea of sedating her, she was completely unable to defend herself.

I had to save her.

I replaced the pendent safely around my neck. My fingers tightened around the grip of my handgun. My other hand stole into my pocket for the devices that would return us to our own time. All I had to do was get to Wanda, get the device on her wrist, and activate it, and she would be safe.

I snapped my timepiece securely around my wrist, and my jaw clenched with resolve. I would save Wanda, then I would do whatever I had to do to retrieve Tanya before I activated my own. Even if I had to fight my way back to her, I would not leave her here.

I cursed again as I realised I didn’t dare kill anyone. Tempting though the prospect was to exterminate the lot of them here and now like the foul vermin they were, I had no idea how that would affect the big picture. I suppressed an urge to punch the wall in sheer frustration, holding myself rigidly still. Time travel sucked. Galling as it was, I had to allow Goravitch and Skuler to survive to torture me in the future.

Although, now that I thought about it, alive didn’t necessarily mean undamaged… perhaps it was time to take a leaf out of Wanda’s book.

A grim smile curved my lips. I owed all three of them, Goravitch, Skuler and Madame B, some serious pain.

I waited, rigid with tension, huddled in the dark space beneath the desk, while Goravitch and Madame B exchanged further barbed small talk, awaiting Skuler’s arrival with Wanda.

“Ah, here he comes,” Madame B said, the click of her heels leaving the office. Goravitch hurried after her.

I waited a moment, then quietly eased myself out of my hiding place and slunk after them, gun ready. Pausing, my back to the wall, before I entered the bright lights of the operating theatre, I squinted through the door.

The medical equipment had all been pushed back against the walls out of the way. The tattooed, muscled arms of Vernon Skuler were lowering a limp Wanda into the seat of the machine that now stood in the centre of the room, looking like nothing so much as a futuristic electric chair with its robotic arms and sinister attachments. Skuler locked down the restraints down over her arms, fixing her in place.

I hurriedly tried to assess how many threats I was facing. Wanda was doomed if I got shot down before I could get to her. I counted three assistants in lab coats, plus Madame, Goravitch and Skuler. I ground my teeth. There was no subtle way to do this. No matter what the consequences, there was no choice but to fight.

Goravitch flicked a couple of switches, and the robotic arms began to rotate. The two attachments flattened themselves against the sides of Wanda’s head. I was expecting Goravitch to draw it out, indulge in theatrics, but possibly he saw no point when the victim was incapable of pleading for mercy. Instead, with no ceremony whatsoever, he pushed the button.

The reduced dose of sedative she had imbibed at my urging was no match for the excruciating agony. Her eyes snapped open. Her body arched like she had been struck by lightning. Her scream rang in my ears as I blew through the door. I fired, taking Goravitch through the shin. He crumpled with a thin screech of agony. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the most open expression I had ever witnessed on Madame B’s face. The marble aspect cracked, turning apoplectic with shock and rage as I fired several more shots, and his assistants were swiftly incapacitated.

Skuler reacted faster than I would have given him credit for, barrelling his huge bulk into me. I let his momentum aid me as I dodged neatly aside and kicked him into Madame B. They both went down in a tangle.

I pumped the last of my ammunition into the machine, causing it to emit a screeching hiss as it abruptly lost power. There was no time to reload. Wanda let out a groaning cry, her eyes staring blankly as the attachments released her. I ripped the manacles off, snapping the timepiece onto her wrist as I pulled her out of the chair. She sagged, almost falling, and I lifted her into my arms.

“Stop her!” Madame B screeched from the floor as I turned.

Skuler hauled himself up on one knee, raising his gun. With a flash of horror, I realised it was aimed not at me, but at the woman in my arms. His lips curled gloatingly.

Frantically, I slapped at the device on her wrist as his finger curled around the trigger. The white armour coalesced around her as he fired.

She vanished out of my arms as though sucked up by an invisible straw. A millisecond later, the bullet meant to incapacitate her exploded through my shoulder. I fell back against the machine, the pain momentarily blacking me out, my knees buckling.

Another shot, and another fire ignited, this time in my thigh.

Groaning, crumpled against the foot of the machine, I opened my eyes and glared as Skuler kicked my gun out of my hand, then paused, his own weapon now aimed directly at my head. He glanced sideways, awaiting the order.

Madame B waved him aside. “How _dare_ you,” she hissed, spitting she was so livid. “What have you done? Where is the girl?”

“Gone,” I replied with an exultant snarl. “Gone where you can never touch her…”

“Why?” she demanded furiously. “ _Why_ , Natalia? Is this how you repay me for all I have done for you?”

I snorted bitterly through the pain, amazed that she could actually believe she had done me any favours. “You had me tortured,” I retorted through clenched teeth, my voice full of hatred.

“I made you stronger,” she spat. “It seems you need to relearn a few lessons. If you think what you experienced in this place before was pain, then think again. Before I am finished, you will beg for the sweet release of death! And when you have finally screamed enough to pay for this insult, once you have told me everything you know about the girl, and where I shall find her; by then, this machine will be repaired, and in it you will go, and you will be my finest weapon once more…” She smiled cruelly. “I’m told the process of ripping your memories from your mind is quite excruciating.”

She jerked her head at Skuler. “Put her in chains. Feel free to take your time.”

“With pleasure,” Skuler answered, a familiar leer crossing his face.

 _Oh no!_ I thought desperately. _No, no, not again. Over my dead body!_

I bared my teeth at him as he gripped the front of my shirt, hauling me up. “I told you, you’d pay for that punch,” he smirked maliciously.

I grimaced, the feel of his hot breath on my face triggering unwelcome memories. “You’re right. I will. But not today.” Summoning all my strength, I headbutted him viciously in the face. As he howled with pain and clawed at his nose, blood streaming between his fingers, I twisted out of his grasp and yanked his weapon out of his hand. Ignoring the agony as my wounds tore, I kicked him in the head, and he toppled, unconscious.

Fighting to stay upright, I turned the gun deliberately on Madame B.

Her eyes flicked over the comatose forms of Skuler, Goravitch and his three assistants in consternation before returning to me, but then she smiled coldly. “You can’t harm me, Natalia. I own you.”

My hand trembled, but the gun remained pointed at her. “Not anymore,” I snarled through clenched teeth.

Her smile did not falter. “The question is moot,” she said softly. “You can’t win, Natalia. Look down.”

I raised the gun threateningly. Did she really think I was stupid enough to fall for that? My legs shook, the pain of my wound throbbing. I felt myself growing dizzy. What was happening? I had fought with gunshot wounds before… Battling to stay conscious, I glanced down.

Bright, shockingly red blood soaked my trouser leg. It was already pooling on the floor, so that I left a red footprint when I shifted position.

I stared at it numbly. I knew what that much blood meant. The bullet in my thigh had found an artery. Unless something was done to halt the flow, my life would pour out of the hole in my flesh, killing me within minutes.

My hand holding the gun trembled, and I had to grasp it with my other hand to steady it. I could feel my body going into emergency measures, sending me into shock. In seconds, I would lose consciousness, and it would be game over.

I couldn’t afford to lose.

 _Tanya,_ I thought in anguish. _Tanya, I’m so sorry…_

I had no choice. I had to survive. If I surrendered I would die, or worse. My memories would be erased, and I would become nothing but a mindless pawn, another Winter Soldier, a tool in the hands of this evil woman. Who knew how many innocent lives I would be forced to extinguish? I couldn’t take the risk, and that left me with only one option. I had to go back to my own time, now, back to where Melanie was waiting and could heal me.

But to save myself, I would have to abandon Tanya.

All of this passed through my mind in a split second.

“Surrender, Natalia,” Madame B sneered. She eyed me calculatingly. “You know you don’t want to die. You’ve always been a survivor, ever since you were a child. Drop the gun, and I will save your life.”

I glared at her with hatred, my vision already starting to blur. I made my decision, the only decision I could make, but I was damned if I was going to leave Tanya to suffer the consequences. If I couldn’t take her with me, at least I could still give her a chance to be free. My resolve ripped through the compulsions she had so painfully built into my mind.

“You’re right,” I slurred with difficulty. “I am a survivor.” With every ounce of concentration I had left, I took careful aim. “Are you?”

Madame B’s eyes widened in shock, the sound of the gunshot echoing deafeningly around the room. Open mouthed, she looked briefly down at the blood starting to seep from the bullet wound in her stomach, a scarlet stain quickly spreading over her white blouse. Then her eyes rolled into her head and she collapsed.

My leg gave way beneath me, and I sank to the ground as well. Releasing the gun, I slumped. The room spun unpleasantly. With my last dregs of energy, I groped for the device on my wrist and activated it.

“Forgive me, Tanya,” I whispered.

The white armour covered me like a wave, and I sank beneath it. Barely clinging to consciousness, I was sucked into the Quantum Tunnel, returning to my own time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has developed a soft spot for Tanya, don't worry. We haven't seen the last of her ;)


	15. 15.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has succeeded in her mission, but at a high cost. Was it worth it?

I landed in a crumpled heap on the platform.

My shoulder and leg were on fire as the white armour dissolved, competing for the title of most painful body part. Distantly, I sensed a flurry of movement. Familiar voices cried my name.

“Oh good,” I mumbled vaguely. “We’re back.”

“Nat!” Melanie cried, suddenly at my side. I felt a warm glow at the love in her voice. Then I groaned in pain as she tried to pull me up. The welcome in her voice changed to alarm, and she swore savagely as she noticed the blood pooling beneath me.

“Oh god! Stay with me, Nat, I’ve got you. I can fix this, just stay with me. Maria, put pressure on her shoulder. I need to deal with her leg.”

I felt the tingle of her powers at work, stemming the flow of blood. There was a very strange, and exceedingly unpleasant wriggling sensation as the metal slug worked its way out of my flesh, then the tingling increased. The pain in my leg diminished appreciably, and I fought my way back to full consciousness.

“Mel?” I mumbled weakly.

“I’m here, my love,” she replied reassuringly. “I’m right here. You’re going to be fine, just lie still.”

Wincing as the wriggling sensation started again, this time in my shoulder, I did as I was told, lying obediently still while she finished healing me, until a sudden thought gave me a jolt.

Wanda!

“Hey!” Melanie scolded, as I twisted sharply, desperate to see if Wanda had returned safely. “I said lie still!”

“Wanda!” I said frantically. “Where’s Wanda?”

“I’m here,” came a croak from my right. I turned my head, and Wanda crawled to my side. “I’m okay,” she whispered.

I searched her gaze feverishly. “You remember?” I grated out. “The machine…”

She flinched. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget,” she said painfully. She swayed woozily and put her hand to her head. “I have the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life, and you…” Her eyes widened, seeing the memory from my perspective. “You took a bullet for me!”

I grimaced. “I noticed.”

Melanie gently helped me sit up.

I groped for the pendent around my neck and yanked, breaking the chain. “Here,” I said weakly, holding it out for someone to take. “Someone get going on this. I’m going to need a minute…”

“What happened?” demanded Sam, as Maria, after a concerned glance at me, took the pendent and carried it away.

“Things got a little out of hand,” I coughed.

He rolled his eyes. “No kidding.”

The pain rapidly diminished, clearing my thoughts. Twisting my head to peer at myself, I found my wounds had vanished, fresh pink skin visible through the holes in my clothing. I marvelled at Melanie’s power. She was getting better and better at this all the time. Although it was a pity she had yet to find a way of using an alternative energy source than the subject’s own reserves. I felt abruptly light-headed and ravenous as my body protested the profligate use of its energy stores. 

“Come on you,” Melanie said, helping me up and steadying me as I swayed dizzily. Between the effects of the healing and blood loss, I was close to passing out. “Bed. You need some food, and then you need to sleep that off. You can fill us in later.” She glanced at Wanda, who had also gotten gingerly to her feet and was standing with one hand pressed to the side of her head. Her mind seemed intact, but she clearly wasn’t joking about the severity of her headache.

“You can get yourself to bed too,” Melanie ordered her summarily. “Sam, will you help her please?”

“No problem.” Sam gently swept the girl into his arms, ignoring her startled protest, and carried her off.

“Don’t even think about it,” I told Melanie, alarmed. “I can walk.” I felt it would be extremely undignified for the commander of the Avengers to be seen being carried like a child through the building.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, instead threading an arm around my shoulders for support. I held her back a moment as she tried to steer me back to the residence wing. Rhodes and Bruce were still standing anxiously to one side.

“Go help Maria,” I told them with a smile. “I’m fine. I promise. Go on, go start wading through everything I got. I didn’t get shot for nothing!”

They smiled ruefully.

“Okay, boss,” Rhodes agreed. “Sleep well.” He winked.

I pursed my lips but otherwise ignored his implication that he doubted I would be going straight to sleep.

“Feel better soon, Nat,” Bruce said as he followed Rhodes from the room.

“Oh I will,” I murmured softly, smiling.

Melanie tutted in disapproval, propelling me out of the opposite door. “That is _not_ what I meant when I said you need to go to bed.”

I feigned innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

I chuckled wearily.

We finally made it to our room, and I sank down on the bed thankfully. Melanie left me to sort myself out while she went to get me something to eat.

I groped my way wearily to the bathroom and laboriously washed the blood and dirt from my body. I had no energy to clean up after myself, dropping the towel in a heap on the floor with my ruined clothing. I limped back into the bedroom and stared at the bed. The sudden release from the constant tension of the last few weeks; the wonderful feeling of being _home_ , back in my own special place, surrounded by the people I loved; not to mention the near brush with death… all of it had happened so fast, I felt positively giddy.

Now my burst of happiness drained away as quickly as it had come.

I had succeeded in my mission, I was home, but at what cost?

 _Tanya_ , I thought heartbrokenly, sinking down on the edge of the bed.

Footsteps returned up the hall, and Melanie backed through the door, carrying a loaded plate in one hand and a glass of juice in the other. Turning and kicking backwards with her foot to shut the door, she stopped short as she took in my air of desolation.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, worried. “Are you still in pain? Are you injured somewhere else?”

I shook my head miserably, and patted the bed next to me. “Come sit down. I need to tell you something.”

“You need to eat and sleep,” she argued. “Can’t it wait?”

“No.” If I didn’t tell her now, I might not be able to tell her at all, and I knew if I didn’t, Wanda would. She deserved to hear it from me.

She sat down slowly, her expression confused. I took the plate from her and set it aside. Though I was ravenous, I couldn’t eat until I got this over with.

She put up a hand to stroke my cheek. “What’s wrong, my love?” she murmured. “You’re acting like someone died.”

I shook my head again. “No-one died.” God I hoped not. “Although you’ll probably consider killing me yourself, in a minute,” I added unhappily.

She looked even more confused. “Why on earth would I…” She trailed off. Her eyes narrowed. “Nat, what have you done?”

I swallowed. “You, ah, remember how you told me not to give any lap dances…”

She snorted. “Don’t tell me you had to give someone at the Red Room a strip tease!”

I winced. “Ah… a little more than that… actually.”

She went very still.

“Madame B was… very pleased with my work with Wanda. So pleased that she decided I deserved a reward…” I glanced at her apprehensively. She sat, frozen, not a blink of an eye betraying her reaction. Feeling desperate, I blurted out the rest. “There was a girl there, the senior trainee. Her name was Tanya. She was… like us. She figured it out, and told Madame, so instead of sending me one of the males, she sent her… and I… I couldn’t refuse. Not without blowing my cover.”

She didn’t respond. Her eyes were like glass, flat and reflective, revealing nothing of her thoughts.

I bit my lip. “Mel, please… please say something. Hit me, scream at me, anything…” I choked a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. “You might as well, I’m already going to get it with both barrels from Wanda when she wakes up…”

Finally, Melanie stirred. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold,” she said distantly, getting up and moving to the window.

“I don’t care about food,” I protested. “I care about you! Please Mel…”

“Just eat,” she said shortly without turning. “I need a minute, alright? Eat your goddam food.”

Anguished, I did as I was told. It was a good thing I was so hungry, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to force it past the lump in my throat. She remained looking out of the window, still as a statue. I finished my meal in silence and laid the plate aside.

I waited.

Finally she drew a deep breath and turned to face me. I eyed her worriedly. She was very white, but calm. She returned to sit on the bed beside me. I tentatively touched her hand, then, when she didn’t pull away, twined my fingers through hers.

She sighed, and looked me in the eye. “Tell me all of it.”

I flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I whispered.

Her eyes softened ever so slightly. “I know. But regardless, tell me everything. I need to know.”

Miserably, I did as she asked. The words didn’t come easily; lies had always flowed all too glibly from my tongue, but truth was something I had little practice with. I persevered, forcing the words out, because I knew that complete honesty was the only way our relationship had even a chance of survival. Slowly, haltingly, I told her about Tanya. I hid nothing, not what we had done, nor how much I had come to care for her. At some point in my recital, the tears started to fall, trickling down my cheeks. The pain was crippling, worse by far than the gunshot wounds Melanie had just healed. I wasn’t sure what hurt more; my anguish over the pain I was causing her; the bitter knowledge of the agony Tanya must have gone through, left abandoned at the Red Room never knowing the truth; or the searing ache in my heart at the realisation that I would never see Tanya again. Nothing if not thorough, I told her that too.

Melanie didn’t cry. She merely sat motionless, her serious eyes never leaving my face, while I poured out my confession.

Eventually, I ran out of words, though not tears, which still streamed down my cheeks. I fell awkwardly silent, except for my quiet sobs.

After a long minute, a hand stroked my hair back from my face. I raised my eyes anxiously.

“You love her,” she observed quietly.

Sniffing, I hung my head, wishing I could deny it, but I had sworn to be honest... “I love you more,” I said instead. It was the best I could do. I raised my eyes beseechingly. “Please, please believe me, I still love you as much as I ever did…”

“You just love her too,” she finished.

I winced. “I’m sorry,” I whispered desperately. “I didn’t mean to love her, I tried not to… but she needed me so very badly…” I choked as a fresh wave of tears made their appearance. The gaping rent in my soul throbbed. I should be so happy right now, back with my beloved, but the pain of losing Tanya eclipsed everything else. I had never experienced agony like this, never imagined a broken heart could be so much worse than any physical injury. And if it hurt this much to lose Tanya, how bad would it be to lose Melanie as well? The thought sent me dangerously close to hysteria.

There was a soft sigh, and Melanie wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight and rocking me soothingly as I sobbed out my heartbreak.

It took longer than I would have thought for Tanya’s piece of my heart to be cried out. Eventually though, my tears dried up. I slumped, numb with exhaustion, my head on Melanie’s shoulder, while she gently stroked my hair.

“Thank you,” she said softly after a while. The corners of her mouth twitched as I raised my head in astonishment. “For being brave enough to tell me the truth. I know how hard that must have been for you.”

I gulped. “Probably not as hard as it was for you to hear.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgement. Her detachment frankly worried me. I was afraid this was the calm before the storm, and at any moment the raging tempest would strike…

She sighed, sensing my apprehension. “Relax. I’m not going to go mental.” She shrugged. “I’m upset, don’t get me wrong, but…” She sighed again. “I guess this is why you’ve never had a relationship before, huh? Because you never knew what you would have to do when you were undercover…”

I nodded slowly, marvelling once again at the uncanny way she understood, without me having to explain…

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you so much. Please, please believe that. I never wanted to cheat on you. I would never have done anything with Tanya, I would have avoided her like the plague if I could have, but I didn’t have a choice. It’s like you said… when I’m undercover, I have to do whatever it takes. If they had sent me a man, I would have had to do the same. If they had sent _Skuler_ , I would have had to sleep with him, and pretend I enjoyed it…”

She grimaced. “So what, I should be happy that they sent you someone you _did_ enjoy?”

I gulped. “No… no, that’s not what I meant…”

“I know what you meant,” she said in resignation. She pulled a face. “I _am_ glad you didn’t have to sleep with Skuler.”

“Me too,” I muttered, shuddering with revulsion.

She wriggled up the bed and laid her head on the pillow, opening her arms. Almost faint with relief, I snuggled into her side and laid my head on her shoulder.

“I forgive you,” she murmured. She hesitated. “And I’m sorry about Tanya.”

I turned my head to stare at her in bewilderment. “You actually are an angel, aren’t you,” I said wonderingly. “Don’t you _hate_ her?”

She shook her head. “How can I hate her? I can hardly blame her for having feelings for you. And as much as I dislike it, I can’t really blame you for caring about her. You share bonds of pain… just like Wanda and I do. I can’t exactly get angry at you after all I had to say about that, can I?”

“You weren’t sleeping with Wanda,” I muttered, feeling wretched.

She winced. “And I’m not happy about you sleeping with Tanya,” she replied evenly. “But I understand why you did. And at the end of the day, I’d rather you slept with a hundred people than get yourself killed for the sake of sparing my feelings.” She eyed me, frowning. “Although it seems you almost got yourself killed anyway. How did that happen?”

I grimaced. “They tried to wipe Wanda’s mind. I had to fight my way to her. Skuler took a shot at Wanda, but I sent her back to the future, and it hit me instead.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Those bullets were meant for Wanda?”

I shrugged. “The first one was. The one in the leg was for me. It wasn’t so bad to start with, they weren’t trying to kill me, just make me hurt. I made it worse, kicking Skuler in the head.” I scowled. “Thick-skulled bastard. If it weren’t for that, I would have been able to go back for Tanya like I wanted. Thanks to him, I had to leave her there, and god knows what happened to her.”

“You were going to bring her back with you?” Melanie asked, aghast. “Nat –“

I winced. “I know, I know, but I wasn’t doing it to hurt you, I swear! I choose you, I will always choose you, I just couldn’t bear to leave her in that place. I just wanted to save her!”

“Oh Nat,” Melanie murmured, anguished. “It wouldn’t have saved her, sweetheart. Bringing her back with you would have killed her.”

“What?” I sat up, staring at her in dismay. “It… it would?”

She nodded sombrely.

“But… Thanos brought an entire army here!” I protested.

She sighed. “Yes, love, he did, but they came in ships. They were protected from the effects of the Quantum Tunnel by the metal hulls, just as you were protected by your armour. Tanya would have had no protection at all. She wouldn’t have survived the trip.”

I sat rooted to the spot, speechless with horror.

Worried, Melanie put her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I swallowed hard. “I really couldn’t save her, could I?” I whispered brokenly. “There was nothing I could do. She was doomed no matter what I did… she doesn’t even know what happened to me. She doesn’t know I wanted to save her. I sent her off to complete that hideous test, and I promised her I would be there for her when she came back, I _promised_ she would get to leave that place with me… she’ll think I lied, she’ll think I abandoned her.” I choked, reality descending like a kick in the chest. “She’ll have spent the last _nineteen years_ thinking I abandoned her! She’ll hate me!”

“I’m so sorry, Nat,” Melanie murmured.

I cast her a bitter look. “Shouldn’t you be glad?”

She shook her head, hurt. “How can I be glad about something that makes you so unhappy? I can’t say I would have welcomed Tanya here with open arms, but I wish you _had_ been able to bring her with you, rather than see you in this much pain. But I’m glad you were kept from trying. At least you’re spared the pain of realising you unwittingly killed her.”

I flinched, but I couldn’t really argue with that. “I just wish I could have explained,” I said wretchedly. “I didn’t want to hurt her. She had suffered so much already…” I shook my head angrily. “That place messed with my head. I’m glad you destroyed it. I wish I could have seen it burn!”

“It was satisfying, I’ll admit,” she confessed. She kissed my forehead. “It must have been terrible, having to go back there.”

“I felt like I was going mad,” I said softly. “Like I was being drip-fed poison. Every day it got worse.” I squeezed my eyes shut, troubled. “Being Natalia again… sometimes I worried I would forget who I really was. Sometimes Natasha Romanoff felt like a dream…”

“Shhhh,” Melanie crooned soothingly. “It’s over now. You’re home.”

I sought her lips feverishly. “Make me forget,” I whispered between kisses. “Please…”

She smiled, tutting disapprovingly. “You need rest, you almost died. Again.”

“I can’t rest,” I told her desperately. “Not until I know you still love me.”

Her eyes softened. “I’ll always love you,” she murmured.

****

Eventually, I did get the rest Melanie insisted on, and slept for most of the next two days, my body recovering its reserves. When I finally awoke, ravenous once more, Melanie was gone.

I tried not to feel too anxious about her absence; after all she could hardly be expected to sit and wait for me to wake up when there was so much else going on. I showered and dressed, and headed for the kitchen to appease my protesting stomach, where I unexpectedly found Melanie and Wanda sat at the breakfast bar, drinking tea. From their expressions as they looked up, I didn’t need to ask what they had been talking about. I hesitated apprehensively in the doorway, once again feeling wretched as I noticed Melanie’s eyes were rather red.

Wanda shook her head in exasperation. “Come in, Nat. I’m not going to bite you.”

Swallowing hard, I entered the room. I stopped a few feet away from them and spread my hands in resignation as I met Wanda’s eyes. “Go on then, get it off your chest. I’m sure you’ve got a whole speech bottled up. Let rip.”

“Actually,” Wanda said demurely, “I was going to say thank you for saving me.”

Taken aback that the rant I had been braced for wasn’t forthcoming, I stared at her. “You don’t need to thank me,” I said finally. “You would never have been in danger at all if I hadn’t suggested sedating you…”

She shrugged. “Like you said, if they hadn’t drugged me, they would have done something worse. Like they nearly did.” She shivered. “I was lucky you were on the spot.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked anxiously. “Your memories are all intact and everything? I couldn’t get to you before they turned the machine on, but I did shut it down pretty quickly…”

She nodded, closing her eyes a moment with a shudder. “I think I’m all here. You shut it down quickly enough.” She opened her eyes again. “Stop cringing, Nat. It wasn’t your fault. No harm, no foul.”

I eyed her doubtfully. “And you’re not still mad about… the other thing?”

Wanda glanced sideways at Melanie, who smiled wanly. “That’s between the two of you,” she replied. She gave me a stern look. “If you hadn’t told her everything, I’d have blasted you into the middle of next week,” she admitted. “But you have, so… it’s between you.” She stabbed a finger at me. “Just make damn sure it doesn’t happen again.”

I flinched, but nodded soberly. “I’m not planning on going undercover again. Ever. It won’t happen again.”

Wanda seemed satisfied. “Well all right then.” Then she winced and put her hand to her temple again.

“Still hurts?” I said sympathetically.

She pulled a face. “I feel so sorry for Bucky Barnes. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for him, to experience that over and over. I was only in that machine for a few seconds, and I still feel like my brain was put through a blender. But I’m sure the pain will fade, eventually.” She eyed me speculatively. “How are you holding up?”

I averted my eyes, guessing she wasn’t referring to my physical wounds. “I’m fine.”

Wanda made a disbelieving noise, and I raised my eyes to the ceiling. “All right, I’ve been better!” I admitted grudgingly. “It hurts like hell. But I knew what I was in for, I knew there was never going to be a happy ending. Maybe in another life, in some parallel universe, Tanya and I could have been together, but there was never any doubt in my mind who I’m meant to be with.” I looked at Melanie almost pleadingly. “I know who I can’t live without.”

Melanie smiled reassuringly, and I released a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. She tilted her face for a kiss, and I made haste to oblige, profoundly grateful for her incredible understanding. She broke off, chuckling quietly, as my stomach gurgled loudly.

“Someone’s hungry,” she observed affectionately. “You want me to make you some eggs or something?”

I smiled. “Thanks, but no, I think I’ll just have toast.”

While the bread was in the toaster, I rootled in the fridge, looking for peanut butter. Something about Melanie’s healing seemed to give me serious cravings for the stuff.

Melanie laid her head on my shoulder as I spread liberal amounts of peanut butter on my toast.

I studied her worriedly out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t like her to be needy. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She smiled. “I’ll be okay. It’s Wanda I’m worried about actually.” She cast a concerned glance at her sister, who sat nursing her mug at the breakfast bar, dark shadows under her eyes. “She’s pretty shaken up. I was thinking I should take her to the island for the day. Some sun and sea air will do her good.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.” I hesitated. “Good for you too. I don’t blame you if you need to… be away from me, for a while.”

She sighed. “I told you, I forgive you. But yes, I need a little time and space to deal with it.” She kissed me gently on the lips. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

I forced a smile and kissed her back. “Have fun. I’ll see you later.” I picked up my toast and backed out of the door.

It really was amazing, I mused, how different I felt here. I could almost feel Natasha Romanoff hauling Natalia Romanova out of the driving seat, taking her rightful place at the wheel. I luxuriated in the relaxed atmosphere of home, sauntering through the corridors, munching as I walked, exchanging smiles and quick greetings with people I passed. The difference between here and the Red Room was so marked, it was almost like returning from another planet. I could almost convince myself the last few weeks had been nothing more than a terrible dream… almost.

I headed to the control room, but it was empty except for the security detail watching the monitors and a few staff on routine surveillance. I turned my steps to the room we had made our base of operations during our search for Goravitch, and indeed found the rest of the team there. The large room was a bustle of activity, a dozen assistants working feverishly at their monitors, supervised by Maria.

“We’re still converting all the video to readable files,” Maria reported before I could ask. “You recorded a massive amount of data, we’re having to capture stills of every page and then convert each image to a readable file, run it through the translation software, and then reassemble them in order. Its taking a while.”

I nodded, stifling my impatience. “You’re printing hardcopies as well, right?”

Maria pointed to Sam, Rhodes and Bruce, who sat a table covered with paper, organising it all into carboard folders. After all I had gone through to get this information, I was taking no chances on it getting erased. Without asking, I knew Maria would be ensuring there were several digital back-ups as well as the hardcopies.

“What about the hard drives I downloaded?” I asked.

Maria nodded to a set of monitors that were flickering ominously. “They were all protected. Friday is running decryption software, but no joy so far.”

I grunted acknowledgement, unsurprised that the Red Room drives were proving difficult to crack. They came from the same place that had trained me, after all.

Maria smiled crookedly, as though reading my mind. “You’re one of the best hackers I know, and if anyone knows the tricks they used to protect their files, its you. You want take a bash at them yourself?”

I nodded. “I have a few ideas. I’ll just check in with the guys first.”

They looked up as I walked over to where they were wading through Goravitch’s files and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“This guy is horrible,” Bruce announced.

I rolled my eyes. “Kinda knew that already.”

“So what happened?” Rhodes asked eagerly. “Tell us all about your little fieldtrip to yester-year, don’t keep us in suspense.”

An assistant appeared at my elbow and proffered a cup of coffee. Thanking her, I wrapped my hands around the mug and leaned against the wall. Maria moved closer to listen as I related the events of our trip back in time. I neglected to mention the intimate nature of my relationship with Tanya, but told them everything else. They looked at me a little askance when I admitted to sedating Wanda, and their unease deepened exponentially as I related how I had been forced to spend several weeks maintaining my cover, but they didn’t say anything. Their disapproval melted away when I told them how I had rescued Wanda from having her mind wiped, and sent her back through the quantum tunnel just in time to avoid the bullet meant for her.

“Pretty intense stuff, boss,” Sam commented, looking awestruck.

I could tell they were all very impressed by my selflessness in taking a bullet for Wanda. There was a conspicuous absence of typing sounds as the assistants peeped around their monitors. I shrugged off their admiration impatiently. “What was I going to do, let them shoot her?” I demanded, embarrassed. “I’d do it for any of you. And you’d do it for me. End of story. Now fill me in on what you’ve got so far.”

“No specifics yet, we’re still getting it organised, but I’d say the man has a seriously unhealthy obsession,” Rhodes commented. He indicated a sizable pile. “This is all from the filing cabinet in his personal office. He had two entire drawers full of stuff about you. This lot is all the stuff he did to you during your training,” he said with a grimace, holding up an extremely thick red folder. “I only had a quick glance,” he added in response to my sharp look. “Believe me, I don’t want to dig any deeper. It is _not_ pleasant reading material, I seriously don’t know how you’ve managed to carry on without a _ton_ of therapy… anyway,” he moved on hurriedly as my expression darkened, indicating the rest of the pile. “This lot is all after you left the Red Room. Looks like he was keeping pretty close tabs on you.”

I pulled a face. “I heard him arguing with Madame B to let him have me back. It sounded like he asked a lot.” I brooded on that a moment, then shook myself firmly. “I don’t need information about me, I need info about him. Any details so far?”

“Haven’t come across any personal data yet,” Sam said from behind a sheaf of papers. “But we’re certainly going to get a thorough look at his research. A lot of this stuff looks like case files.” He looked faintly nauseated. He pushed another pile towards me. “These are from those notebooks in his desk. Looks like all his notes on that serum he was tinkering with, if you’re interested.”

I stared at the pile and swallowed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what exotic cocktail of chemicals Goravitch had put in me. I slid the lot towards Bruce. “You and Mel can take a closer look at that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh goodie,” he replied sarcastically.

“The science stuff is your department,” I pointed out.

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll take it to the lab. Any other _science stuff_ , give me a call.”

“Mel will help you when she gets back. She’s taken Wanda off for the day.”

“Good call,” Sam commented. “Poor kid’s had a doing. She looked like death warmed up when I carried her to her room.”

“She’s not a kid,” I chided gently. “But yes, she’s been through a lot.” I scowled. “I wasn’t expecting them to have access to anything quite as diabolical as the memory suppressing machine they used on Bucky Barnes.”

Bruce cocked his head to one side unhappily. “You realise what that means,” he said quietly. “That Goravitch was involved with the Winter Soldier?”

I winced. I had been trying not to think about it.

“Oh no,” Maria groaned in tones of utmost horror. “No, no, no. Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting!”

I sighed heavily. “We know Bucky was kept in a Soviet base in Siberia. We were too busy being on the run after the Sokovia Accords debacle, and then dealing with Thanos, to follow up on that. If we are really lucky, the KGB were just working alongside Hydra back then, allowing them to have a base in the Russian wilderness, maybe loaning Goravitch out as some kind of consultant. But if we are less fortunate...”

“I know where I’d put my money,” Rhodes muttered. “When do we ever get any luck?”

Abruptly a smooth female voice cut in. “Hard drive decrypted, boss. Access granted.”

I looked up eagerly. “Which one, Friday?”

“Sign in key belongs to Goravitch, A.”

“Bring it up on the main screen,” I requested, moving away from the wall to see better.

An image appeared on the large screen on the wall beside us.

I rocked back a step. Maria started swearing.

“I knew it,” Rhodes muttered bitterly. “I _knew_ it!”

Sam groaned in horror. “No, no, no… not _again_!”

I stared at the hypnotic octopus logo, my fists clenched, feeling the same rage and despair as the others displayed. Would we never be rid of these bastards?

“Cut off one head, two more take its place,” Bruce murmured. He looked at me, deeply troubled. “I guess that answers that. And if Goravitch was part of Hydra back then, and now ranks high enough in the KGB for a spy in the Home Office to be reporting to him? Chances are…” He trailed off as though unwilling to finish.

I closed my eyes, a bitter taste filling my mouth as I completed his thought.

“The KGB _are_ Hydra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh duh duh!  
> Did you see it coming?  
> Hope you're enjoying my story, thanks for reading and the kudos, I'm so happy so many people seem to be enjoying it. I would love to see your comments, please tell me what you think. Likes/dislikes? What do you want more/less of? All ideas and constructive criticism welcome.


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